A Life of Service
by Zgamer
Summary: A deviation starting parallel to Episode 2. Clay McKinley has been lucky to survive these last three months. Born and bred a meek Utah boy, Clay's life is going to become a lot more complicated as he learns to man up and become the survivor he needs to be to protect those he cares for. Rated M for some later parts. UPDATE: Chapter 6 is now up! 7/22/2013
1. To Sojourn Alone

**Hello there people. I am still fairly new to this whole FanFiction malarkey, but I have been having a blast so far with my first FanFiction, the Halo/Mass Effect crossover Last of an Ancient Breed, that I want to expand into other categories. If you want to check out that story, go to my profile or search the crossover section.**

**We're not here to discuss that though. We're here for The Walking Dead. Now, this character is from a Walking Dead Role Play site that is now sadly defunct. However, seeing how much I enjoyed writing the character and how much fun it was to bounce off the other authors' characters, I decided to tell the story we created through this new one. It will be modified from its original version to fit a smoother narrative and focus the action more, but at its core it is largely the same. Not that anyone can notice that outside of the authors who worked on it!  
**

**And I am totally happy for reviews and comments. I know I can always improve so I am open to suggestions for improvement.**

**So without further ado, here is the story of Clay McKinley and his Life of Service...**

**...**

Clay McKinley's footsteps broke the silence lingering over Atlanta's abandoned streets. The outbreak three months ago turned this once bustling city into a very large ghost town. Cars were scattered about the streets, some just abandoned and some smashed from whatever or whoever was in the way. Windows were smashed in nearby buildings and the remaining ones were boarded up. Garbage littered the streets and most everywhere you looked was general ruin. It was a strange and sad sight to behold.

Then again, Clay figured that he was just as strange a sight. He was a young and fit twenty-two year old wearing a worn out white button up shirt and tan kaki slacks. His dress shoes were losing their soles, only being held together by some masking tape. He had a backpack that had clearly seen better days strapped over the lightweight winter coat he had…found. A tie was wrapped around his hand, some blood still remaining from where he had been cut. Again, not something you see on a regular day.

To Clay's left, dawn was breaking in the distance. Clay didn't get many chances to appreciate this beautiful sight. Living of the lam reprioritizes your life and sunrises were not on the top of his list. Still, he wasn't complaining. The weather was getting colder and any warmth was a treasure. Clay rubbed his hands over his arms to accelerate circulation through his body.

He stifled a yawn as he walked. Clay still couldn't believe he had walked all night to get here. He couldn't believe he had to come here in the first place. He had spent the last three months getting as far away from here as possible. Just yesterday, he had a group he thought he could depend upon. They had survived together for so long, watching each other's back when things became tricky. And then they just…

Clay tried not to think about it. What happened has happened. He couldn't change that. He was alone now. He was used to it, though not because he wanted to be. And now he needed to go back into the city to prepare for…well, he would figure out the rest of that thought when he got there.

Clay mentally retraced his steps from when the last time he was here. Turn left at the corner meat market, walk down three blocks, turn…right, then…He sighed. It's been a while. He looked around. Clay remembered this street. He could make his way back there. He just needed to be patient.

Clay's feet glided on autopilot as he tilted his head and eyed the front pocket on his shirt…

….

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

"Keep up, Elder!"

Clay looked up to see Elder Alex Smith motioning Clay to walk alongside him. Clay must have been lost in thought while staring at his badge again. He still found it hard to believe he was here. A month ago, he was just a regular young man working at a construction site in St. George, Utah. Now he was doing something he thought he would never actually get to do. He was here, side by side with a companion, serving as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

He still remembered submitting his papers and getting the call to Atlanta, Georgia. His mom and Uncle Hyrum were so proud. Clay thought he would have been suffocated by how much his family group hugged him at the announcement. It still felt like it had happened yesterday. He still remembered his feelings at that moment. Surprise, shock, amazement….and immense fear.

Clay never claimed to be the best Mormon in the world. He wasn't a bad person by any means. He lived all the commandments as best as he could and tried to be as nice person. He just…never thought of himself as the best. Everyone else he knew just seemed so much better at being Mormon than he was. What good would he do spending two years sharing the Gospel to strangers?

He went through with it though and now, after some time at the missionary training center, he was wandering the cities of Georgia as Elder McKinley. At least Elder Smith was a good person to be attached to for his first month out. Elder Smith was happy to have a "greenie," as the new guys were called, to train. He had been trying hard to be Clay's buddy while also getting Clay more motivated to talk to people. Clay knew he was making that part of Elder Smith's job hard. He didn't mean to. He was just…anxious.

Clay caught up to Elder Smith and the two walked side by side. Elder Smith turned to Clay with a smile. "Stare at that thing too long and you'll go blind."

Clay chuckled weakly. "Y-yeah. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry." Elder Smith cricked his neck. "First month out is that starry eyed time. Everything's brand spanking new and the world is a scary but wonderful place. To be fair, you're doing a lot better than most greenies."

That had to be a lie, but Clay didn't say anything.

"Anyway," Elder Smith continued, "We were talking about your family."

"Uh…oh yeah!" Clay replied, "I mean, uh, not much else to say. I have a mom, my sister Jessica and my brother David."

Elder Smith raised an eyebrow. "Did your parents divorce?"

Clay hesitated for a second. Elder Smith liked to pry into things. He only did it to be friendly, but he certainly wasn't being subtle.

"…yeah. A while ago."

"You still close with your dad?"

Clay didn't know how to answer that question, so he said nothing.

Elder Smith shrugged. "Well, maybe the mission will be good for that. People don't realize what they've lost until it's not there anymore."

Clay remained silent. He tried to focus on the schedule. They had a lesson with the Tyler family that afternoon, but Elder Smith wanted them to do some street contacting to find new people to teach. Clay suspected that this little chitchat was the real reason they were out though. It was making Clay a bit uncomfortable. He wondered what Elder Smith planned for between the other planned lessons.

Elder Smith must have noticed Clay's anxiety. He put a hand on Clay's shoulder. "Hey bud, you ok?"

Clay stared at his feet.

"I'm sorry," Elder Smith said worried, "Didn't mean to make things awkward."

"No, it's ok. It…it wasn't," Clay lied. His attention was wandering now, listening and watching the area around him. He was a bit…unsure why everyone around them seemed to be in a hurry. It wasn't rush hour yet.

"You know," Elder Smith continued, "I'm glad they paired us up, Elder."

Clay turned to Elder Smith inquisitively. "Really?"

"Yeah. You remember those other greenies that came in with you? They weren't nearly as cool as you."

Clay rubbed his arm. "Nah. They're…cooler guys." Clay mentally omitted the 'some of them' part of that sentence. Some of those guys were pretty obnoxious to be honest. They were part of that whole 'I'm the greatest missionary in the world and you need to know it' mentality. Those people bugged Clay. He didn't want to speak bad about them though. It wasn't nice.

"Seriously," Elder Smith continued, "I've really been enjoying this month together. You're a nice guy."

Clay put his hands in his pockets. Great. Now Elder Smith was being a motivational speaker. Clay focused again on the people around him. One family at a house nearby was quickly loading a car full of supplies and things. Clay was getting a bit worried now.

"Ok, what's up?" Elder Smith noticed this concern too. Clay sighed.

"I…I don't know," Clay lied again. "I'm…I'm nervous."

"I can tell. You haven't tried to talk to a single person this whole time we've been walking."

"No, it's not just that. I'm nervous about…" Clay made an encompassing motion with his arms. "..all of this."

"Of course." Elder Smith replied in matter of fact way. "All of this…" He mimicked Clay's motion. "…is daunting. You're spending two years preaching to people in the Bible belt. That's a challenge in itself." He pat Clay on the back. "You're not the only person who felt that way."

"So how did you overcome it then?"

Elder Smith shrugged. "I stopped caring about it. One day, I realized how silly it was to worry. Life happens. Sometimes we fail, sometimes we succeed. You just roll with it and hope for the best regardless. It requires confidence and faith." Clay sighed to himself as Elder Smith continued. "No one is a super missionary their first month out. Just give it some time and…"

Sirens blared as three police cars and a S.W.A.T. van rushed past the missionaries. Above them, they saw a couple police helicopters fly into the heart of the city. Elder Smith turned to Clay. "Ok, has that been bothering you too?"

So Elder Smith wasn't oblivious to all of this weirdness. Clay looked around. The streets were empty now. In this distance, there was commotion going on. It was faint at first, like a rally or a party was going on.

Then they heard gunfire. The two of them slowly stared at each other, both obviously concerned. Then they heard more. It was coming their way.

"Um…" Elder Smith stumbled his words as he pointed to a nearby street. "Maybe we can cut across this way."

Clay didn't need to be told twice. Their pace quickened as they power walked down the street. More commotion was heard as they power walked. Now they could discern the noises as screaming and panicked chatter. They moved faster. Something wasn't right. Elder Smith pointed to a corner and they rounded it…

…only to bump into a group of heavily armed soldiers and policemen. Clay froze in panic.

"You two!" One of the soldiers approached the two missionaries. "It's not safe here. Get to the evac zones immediately."

"Evac zones?" Elder Smith said concerned. "What's going on?"

"I said move it. This place is-"

Behind the soldiers, a large mass of people seemed to shuffle around a street corner. Something was wrong. Clay could see the clammy skin, bloodied limbs and unnatural movements. They snarled and moaned as they moved towards the group. Were they sick? Possessed?

"Here they come!"

"Damn it!"

"Shit!"

"Kill them!"

The soldiers and cops fired at the people. Blood sprayed as bullets ripped into the mass. Yet the clammy people kept coming, unaffected from the shots aside from causing a few of them to fall. Clay's mouth was fully agape now. Seeing a similar reaction on Elder's Smith's face proved he wasn't just seeing things. A soldier from the firing group turned to the soldier with Clay and Elder Smith.

"Beckett, get those preachers out of here!"

Beckett nodded and motioned the two to follow him. Clay and Elder Smith snapped from their state of shock and followed compliantly. As they moved, Clay could not stop turning back to see the crowd of clammy people grow larger. A few of them fell, but the rest were getting closer to the soldiers and cops. They began pulling back, but not before a few in the front were grabbed by the clammy people. And then…

Clay's averted his gaze to spare his brain the images. He picked up his pace to catch up to Beckett and Elder Smith. They were definitely not seeing the Tylers today…

...

Clay peeked out from the alley he was hiding in and groaned. To no surprise, the street was flooded with those monsters. Clay had never gotten used to staring at them. Their rotting skin, chewed up faces, mouths with the lips bitten off and ratty clothing was a discomforting sight. Hard to believe these things were people once. Normal people just living their lives like any other. Now they roamed the streets looking with that soulless flesh craving frenzy.

Across the street, Clay spotted his missionary apartment. He didn't know if there were any of the monsters inside the building. Still, there was more than enough outside for Clay to think twice before even thinking about stepping out. And here he thought God would make things a little easier for him.

Clay surveyed the street. When he was that previous group of people who shall not be named, they discovered that the monsters were drawn to loud noises. It had to be something sharp enough to be heard, but loud enough to for the monsters to not hear him. So far, all he saw was broken cars, scattered garbage and lots of unhelpful crap that-

There! Off in the distance, there was a car that had not been crashed or mangled yet. It was locked too. Even better! Clay opened his bag to see if he had anything heavy. Combined scriptures, two water bottles, construction gloves, length of rope, his key ring for the apartment, a spare t-shirt….yeah, he probably assumed too much to expect something would magically appear.

As he stood back up, he spotted something. Behind a cardboard box nearby was a brick. Convenience perhaps, but Clay was not going to question good fortune. He grabbed it and positioned himself at the corner. He hadn't practiced his aim for a while, so he only had one shot at this...obviously. If the alarm was active, it was going to draw a lot more than just the monsters on the street. He would have to wait for an opening, run over to the door, unlock it and barricade it from the monsters. Simple as that, right? With a small prayer in his heart, Clay stepped out and hurled the brick at the car's window.

CRASH! WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP-...

The car's alarm blared loudly. After taking a moment to register the noise, the monsters shuffled towards the car. Soon more of them strolled from down the street and the other alleys around the car. Clay kept a vigilante eye open, waiting for a gap. It was going to take a while. When they don't have a clear target to chase, these things moved like molasses…

After about half a minute, an opportunity came. Clay checked down the street. No monsters in sight. All of the monsters in the area were now clambering around the car, clawing at the windows and frame. Clay took a deep breath and bolted. He hurried to the steps to his apartment…

…and then he tripped. Clay caught himself as he fell, but it stung the cut on his hand. He looked to see that the tape on one of his shoes had snapped. The sole flopped about, barely holding on to the remaining tape. This was not good.

Worse, one of the monsters had seen this and shuffled towards him at a faster rate. Crap! Clay scrambled to his feet and ascended the steps to the door.

He whipped out the key ring from his backpack and thumbed through the keys for the one to open the top lock. He double-checked to see the monster getting closer. It locked onto him with that savage glare, snapping its jaws to prepare for a bite. Right as it got closer, Clay found the key. He moved in a hurried fluster as he stuck it into the lock and turned. It clicked open. He grabbed the knob and turned.

That was locked too! Double crap! Clay turned to see the monster's gray face in front of his. He grabbed its arm before it could grab onto him and he struggled against it. Quickly thinking, Clay kicked into the monster's gut. The monster tumbled down the steps, its limbs twisting about its body. Clay may have bought himself the two seconds he needed. He thumbed through the key ring again, looking for the smaller key. The monster was back on its feet now. Right as Clay found the key, the monster ascended the steps towards him. All of this commotion attracted the attention of a couple more who were on their way too. Clay jammed the key into the slot on the knob and turned.

It worked. Clay flung the door open, bolted in and slammed it into the nearest monster's face. He quickly locked the door tight as the monster banged its fists onto it. He turned to find…a sofa in the stairway? Someone must have put it there to keep the monsters from coming up. Clay quickly grabbed an end of the sofa and yanked it down to the main floor. There were more fists banging on the door now. He had to hurry! Using all his might, Clay dragged the sofa in front of the door and propped it into place.

Well it didn't stop the banging on the door, but they weren't getting in. Clay slid onto one of the couch cushions and sighed. It should hold them for the moment.

He examined the main floor. Dust had settled across the wooden floors, furniture and other objects. It was quiet save for the deafened sounds of the alarm outside and the monsters banging on the door. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a while now. What he needed wasn't on this floor though. After a moment of hesitation, Clay ascended the stairs.

Clay took soft steps going up, hoping not to alert any monsters that may be around. He eventually made it to the top floor where his apartment was…and something darted in front of him. Clay jumped and caught onto the railing…only to see a mouse scurrying about. He exhaled in frustration. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about undead mice.

Clay reached the top step and put his hands around his mouth. "Hello?" Clay spoke in a loud whisper. No answer. Clay walked to his apartment door….and then stopped cold.

A man's body was sprawled on the floor with a bloodied stump where his head used to be. Dried blood, bone and brain matter was splattered across the door and the walls. The corpse was still clinging onto the shotgun.. Clay held his churning stomach with his hand. He then noticed the man's clothing. He had seen that outfit before. His stomach churned more. It was the landlord…

…

"EVERYONE PROCEED FORWARD! DO NOT STAY WITH YOUR VEHICLES! CARRY WHAT YOU CAN! EVERYONE PLEASE-"

The cop's megaphone blared as a swarm of cars and people pushed forward. The exit into the highway was absolute chaos. People dragged their kids, family and whatever they could carry along. Cars honked loudly as they tried to find openings to pass through. Soldiers, policemen and S.W.A.T. units divided their duties from helping the evacuation and keeping watch for those cannibal people.

Clay's nerves were frazzled. He kept close to Elder Smith and that soldier Beckett as they merged with the large group. More people flooded out from behind the three, virtually blocking off the way back. Not that Clay had any intention of turning around. He didn't want to deal with what he had seen.

Just then, Elder Smith turned and stopped. People pushed past him as he grabbed Clay's shoulder and pulled Clay to him. Beckett proceeded forward without them, disappearing into the crowd to rejoin the other soldiers.

Clay panicked. "What are you doing?! We need to-!"

"Shut up Elder and look!" Elder Smith pointed back the way they came. Clay spotted what caught his attention. Past the throngs of panicking people, a young woman crawled along the sidewalk. She cried loudly, bloodied and mangled from what looked like being trampled on by the crowds. She refused to let go to a wheeled suitcase behind her.

Elder Smith tugged at Clay's shirt. "Come on!" He dove into the crowd of people, but the tuff of Clay's shirt slipped from his grip. Clay tried to push forward, but there were too many people pushing against him. Elder Smith disappeared from his view.

"ELDER!" Clay called out over the screaming crowd. "ELDER!" He shoved against the crowd but people kept shoving back. He was moving backwards towards the highway exit. Clay stopped holding back now, shoving harder with his large arms as if he was parting waves. He had to get to Elder Smith. Every moment lost was a moment he could help save that woman. As he pushed forward, the crowd in ahead of him thinned. Hopefully that would mean he could move faster. There wasn't any time to spare…

…

Clay pulled out his construction gloves from his bag. He hadn't much need for them so far. They were more a…memento from his time working with Uncle Hyrum's construction company. It just felt nice having them around. Now he had practical use for them. He wasn't going to open s blood-covered doorknob with his bare hands. It might be infected…more so than usual. He slipped the gloves on and carefully stepped around the landlord's body. He knew the man was not coming back, but he really did not want to step on the body or guts. It was gross!

As he reached for the knob, something caught his attention. There was a folded note taped onto the door. Scribbled sloppily on the front was the word ELDERS. Clay looked back at the landlord's body with concern. Did he leave a message? A warning? A word of encouragement? Clay wouldn't get the answers from the corpse. He pulled off the note, chipped away some of the dried blood and read it.

ENJOY YOUR RESURRECTION, MORMONS-CONRAD

Clay frowned. Conrad was not the easiest guy to get along with, but he had been a good landlord to the missionaries for years now. Conrad must have lost hope at some point. To be fair, three months would weaken most people's resolve. Still, Conrad was a Vietnam vet. Clay figured he would be tougher than that.

Clay unlocked his apartment and entered. Everything looked….almost exactly as they left it. Their study table was still in the same spot, the kitchen still had the dirty dishes from that morning, their ironing board was still where it always was and he was sure their bedrooms were the same. Clay didn't know if he should be relieved or worried, but he tried to be optimistic with this.

Clay entered his bedroom and opened the closet. Everything was still there. His clothes, his suitcases, his personal items and everything else were all accounted for. Nothing had been looted. He sighed with relief and took what he needed.

Over the next ten minutes, Clay went about the apartment to prepare for…well, whatever was next. He found his regular tennis shoes he used for his "Preparation Days" when they did laundry and shopping. He found more clothes to replace that ratty shirt of his. He found some non-perishable food in Elder Smith's kitchen cabinets. With everything he was collecting, he could probably last…another week or so. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Clay stuffed his bag as much as he could, even filling the small pockets with items he needed to access quickly. The bag was heavier now, but he was happy knowing it would be weighed down with helpful items instead of excess crap. He even managed to fill up his own pants pockets.

As he approached his old study table, he paused. It was hard to believe that three months ago, he was just eating his breakfast and studying his scriptures like any other missionary. He remembered discussions with Elder Smith over doctrine, chitchat about home, prayers given for their day ahead and more. It was…eerie but refreshingly nostalgic. At least those were good memories.

Clay sat down in his old chair and zoned out for a moment. Conrad's note still bothered his thoughts. Was this truly the Resurrection? Is this what the Bible and Book of Mormon prophesied as the end of days? Was this some kind of Judgment? Seemed like a rather perverse way for God to bring back the dead. What if that was the idea though? What if this played into the whole plan? What if-

Clay shook his head. This was way too complicated to think about right now. He'd probably end up like crazy conspiracy theorist with a wall covered with papers connected with yarn if he thought too hard. He was wasting time just sitting around anyway. He stood up to leave.

Then his eyes scanned the table again. All of their personal items were still there just the way they left them. Clay's photos from back home, Clay's unfinished letter to his mom, a map of the county, Elder Smith's journal, Elder Smith's pair of joke teeth he bought at the local novelty store, Elder Smith's-

This one surprised Clay. He picked the item up and held it in his hand. He remembered it again…

….

"Excuse me! Sorry! Pardon! Please move! ELDER!"

Clay pushed through the crowd until he found an exit. Elder Smith was barely in view, helping the girl up to her feet. Clay squeezed between the last two people and rushed forward…

…until he saw them. Right behind Elder Smith and the girl, a large group of the cannibal people poured out from a nearby building. They were right on top of them. Clay froze and a cold sweat ran down his neck. His feet went numb. Trying to regain his focus, Clay waved an arm in the arm, pointed behind them and called out.

"ELDER! BEHIND YOU!"

It was too late. Three of the cannibals grabbed the girl and bit down on her shoulders and side. Another one reached out and bit deep into Elder Smith's arm. Elder Smith screamed as it tore a chunk of flesh and muscle out and chewed, blood spraying onto both of them. Elder Smith punched the cannibal to the ground and tried to run, but another cannibal grabbed his ankle. Elder Smith tripped and collapsed to the ground.

"Open fire!"

Bullets fired from behind Clay as the soldiers engaged the cannibals, but there were too many of them. They didn't even look phased by the bullets entering into their chests limbs. Only shots to the head seemed to down them. Elder Smith clambered as he tried to free himself. A bullet hit his arm and he screeched more.

More of the cannibals came from behind as the cannibal at his leg bit into his thigh. The girl was now completely covered by the cannibals, chunks of her flesh and innards being torn out and devoured. Her ear piercing screams slowly died down as her available breathing room closed up.

Elder Smith was still screaming though. Clay's legs turned to mush. He couldn't think straight. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to run and save Elder Smith, but he was paralyzed with fear. He wanted to run away, but he knew it was the wrong thing to do. He wanted to call for a soldier to help, but there were too many of the cannibals. He wanted to warn people, but that would create more panic. He wanted-

"HEEEELLLPPP MEEEEE!"

Elder Smith cried out to Clay with his hand outstretched as blood trickled from his mouth. Clay's mind was blank now. His vision became narrower. The swarm of cannibals slowly covered Elder Smith. The last thing Clay recalled from this moment was watching the cannibal Elder Smith knocked down crawl forward and bite into Elder Smith's jugular.

And then Clay ran.

Clay vaguely recalled the soldiers calling out to him, but he didn't pay attention. His dress shoes clacked on the ground as he ran. He didn't run to Elder Smith. He didn't run to the crowd. He didn't run to the soldiers. He just ran. He ran through nearby buildings. He ran through the streets. He ran to places he couldn't remember anymore. Yet he kept running. All the way, tears strolled down his face and his mind frantically tried to return back to reality. What reality was it though? This was not reality anymore. This was a nightmare...

….

Clay's hand tightened around Elder Smith's spare missionary name badge as he suppressed the memory. He had not recalled that moment for a while now. It was still hard to deal with. The back of his mind burned with memories of that event. The monsters piling onto the girl. Elder's Smith jugular being…

Clay rested his head onto the table. He stifled back tears. He killed Elder Smith that day. He could have saved him. If he had tried to get out from the crowd faster. If he had not froze when he saw the monsters. If he had not ran away…He wiped his eyes with his shirt.

"I'm sorry," Clay whispered mournfully. He didn't know whom he was apologizing to: God or Elder Smith. Either way, he didn't know if the apology was accepted.

Clay stood up and shoved the badge into his pocket. He needed to take it. For his sake. Clay then sifted through the rest of the items on the table. He opened Elder Smith's journal to the most recent entry. Picking a pen from the mug on the table, Clay wrote Elder Smith's birth and death date at the bottom. He was about to write his own entry into the page…

…then the car alarm outside died. That wasn't good. The rest of the monsters might lose interest and spread across the street. Some might join the others knocking on the door. Clay needed to hurry. He took his letter and photos and slid them into the journal. He put it away and took a few other personal items from the table, including the map. Feeling he had everything he needed, Clay exited and locked his apartment for maybe the last time.

He proceeded to the hallway window and looked to the doorway below. A flood of the monsters was huddled around the door. They had thankfully lost interest in banging it, but more of them were huddled there than before. Well…this complicates things. Clay couldn't fight against all of them. He didn't want to. Kicking one was easy to do. Still, even when he saw his group do so many times, he couldn't justify killing them. They were still people. He couldn't explain why he felt this. It just…just didn't feel right.

Clay paced the hallway. His options were shrinking. What else could he do? There were only so many exits out of the building. He approached the window on the opposite side of the hallway…and then an option then presented itself. Totally abandoned in the back alley was a motor scooter knocked on its side! And double blessings! The keys were still in the ignition. It wasn't the most efficient means for travel, but whatever would get him out of the city fast was a welcomed option.

Clay raced down to the bottom floor. Then he stopped to remember that his footsteps would attract the monsters. As he ascended the final flight, he checked to see if the sofa was still blocking the door. It was! The monsters had stopped knocking, but they could easily come back if they heard him. Clay quietly but quickly made his way to the back entrance. He opened the door and peered outside.

A lone monster wandered about, mindlessly searching for a poor victim. It was missing an arm, with a chewed stump of its forearm remaining. Its jaw had been dislocated and dangled from one side as it walked. For the most part, it was not too much of a threat. Clay took a deep breath. It's now or never, he assumed.

Clay locked the door behind him as he bolted to motor scooter. The monster spotted him and snarled as it lurched forward. Clay put extra force into his run and shoved the monster onto the ground as he continued. He quickly picked up the scooter and prepared to leave down the alleyway.

Then he remembered that all of the monsters he was avoiding were waiting outside of the only exit. He had been so excited finding a way to travel that he didn't think that far ahead. The monster he knocked over got back to its feet. Clay had to leave now. He turned the keys and said a quick, silent prayer before revving the engine.

The scooter kicked into gear and Clay quickly zoomed into the street. The monsters were now fully alerted and chased him as one mass. Clay swerved around small groups of them, nearly being clipped by some of their outstretched arms. He had not ridden many motorcycles or scooters in his life, but necessity and urgency seemed to bring out proficiency. He rode down the street and turned to the way he came.

As he did though, his heart sank. In his path was a large crowd of the monsters. Triple crap! The car alarm was suddenly a huge regret. The monsters spotted him and snarled as they swarmed to him. The other group behind him was getting closer too. Now he had to think quickly. He sharply turned around and raced down a nearby street. More monsters were in the way. With a split second decision, Clay turned onto a side street. Another group was approaching. One monster flung itself in front of his path, causing him to jolt before quickly dodging it. He had to hurry. The longer he remained, the more monsters he would attract with his noise.

For the next few minutes, Clay was a machine. His hands twisted and turned as he navigated almost mechanically, like some internal instinct was taking control. Groups would come from all angles at him, but he managed to narrowly avoid most of them. He had a few close calls with some surprise lone monsters out of nowhere, but he found a way to out maneuver them without falling off.

A few more minutes and the monsters faded from view behind him. He dared not to look back though. Heck, he had a hard time resisting the urge to look all around him at every moment. He needed to continue forward. He rode until the exit to that blasted highway came into view. He quickly merged onto it and weaved through the abandoned cars. Inside, he saw those who had not abandoned their vehicles clawing at him against the windows. A few more crawled on the ground towards him, but Clay whizzed past them. He just needed to keep moving. Get as far away as possible…

After another ten more minutes of riding, Clay stopped. He looked around. There weren't any monsters immediately near him. He caught his breath…and then chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, but a chuckle nonetheless. He didn't even use a helmet while riding. His mom would probably kill him if she…

Clay diverted that thought. His chuckling died quickly. He had no way to know if his family was still alive back in Utah. No phone lines, Internet or mail system really sucked the more he thought of it. He had to hope they were surviving like he was. If he could ever find a way back to them…

Clay checked the rearview mirror on the handle bar to see the Atlanta skyline in the distance. It still looked like a ghost town even this far out. He had to get away from here. He had to escape the memories. He pulled out the map from the apartment and checked for the fastest route. He may have overestimated how far his destination was, but at least he had a goal. He just needed to account for a few detours and cross-country parts. He checked his fuel tank. Well…it wasn't full but it wasn't empty. He just hoped it would last. Looking ahead, a few storm clouds gathered in the skies. Well…at least he would have water to collect from the rain, right? He had to stay positive.

Clay put the map between his fingers and started the scooter again. It was a fool's hope. For all he knew, the missionaries who were living at the town were dead. Then again, maybe they weren't. Maybe they were holed up in their own apartment. Clay knew those guys and knew they were very capable. Maybe it would work out all right.

Clay heard some snarls growing louder to his left. That was cue enough to leave now. And with, Clay revved his engine and started his trip. It was not guaranteed, but perhaps he would finally find safety with the other missionaries. Heck, what's the worst that could happen out in Macon…

...

**And that's the end of Chapter 1. Let me know what you think. I have Chapter 2 in the works and hope to pump it out as soon as possible.**


	2. A New Group

**Hello again. Sorry for the delay, but here is the next step in Clay's journey. Hope you enjoy it!**

Clay had been to Macon once in his mission. Early in his first month, Elder Smith and the Macon Elders organized a companion swap for the day. It was a regular thing missionaries did to learn from a variety of teaching types. Clay's time here wasn't too bad all things considered. It was a small town, but the people were nice and Elder Pulotu was a good guy if maybe a bit too playful. That's just what Tongans were like.

Clay had made good progress up to this point. He had crossed the main highways and back roads without much hassle. A few monsters had heard his motor scooter's engine, but he outran them easily. Fortune was smiling upon him…

…until he ran out of gas.

So now he was pushing that freaking heavy motor scooter down the last stretch of road leading into Macon. He panted as he wiped some sweat off his brow. The fact he was sweating at this cold a temperature meant this may be more of a hassle than it was worth. Maybe there was a gas station in Macon he could refill the tank. Then again, maybe the Macon Elders had a fleet of motor scooters. Wishful thinking, but it kept Clay at ease.

He could siphon gas from the abandoned and crashed cars along the road. The guys at the construction site taught him how a few years back. However, the last time he tried, everything tasted like gasoline for a week…

As the town came into view, things looked pretty mangy. Trash, abandoned items and all sorts of things littered the ground, making it harder to push the scooter past them. The buildings looked similar to the ones back at Atlanta, either smashed or boarded up…or both. It was quiet too, like quiet enough to hear a pin drop. So Macon was not one of the towns that managed to hole itself up against the outbreak.

Clay started to feel tired as he entered town. Like really tired! He hadn't been sleeping or eating well, but he figured nobody had for the last three months either. He couldn't stop right now. He had to keep…

Clay slipped as he struggled to keep the scooter up. Ok…maybe a break wouldn't kill him. Clay parked the scooter at a nearby bike stall and sat on the ground. Just five minutes, he told himself. He pulled a granola bar and some water from his bag. Five minutes and then he'd move on.

He looked down into the town. Vague memories flashed across his mind. He remembered that Baptist minister who tried to "Bible Bash" them with the most random scriptures. He remembered the young couple that had lived here since they were in elementary school. He remembered the local pharmacy that…

…looked like it had seen better days. A military jeep had crashed into the doorway. Boarded windows had been smashed open, likely from the monsters. There was also a lot of dried blood outside one of the windows from who knows. A real shame. Clay had stopped there once with Elder Pulotu for a snack break. The old couple and their son who worked there were the sweetest people.

Clay pulled out his map. He didn't have much further to go. The Macon Elders lived outside of the town in a local apartment building. He guessed it would be another half an hour. That was good, because the changing colors of the sky meant it was going to get dark soon. He put the map away and went back to the scooter.

And then he heard the moans and snarls. Slowly turning down an alleyway, he saw a large group of the monsters wandering about. Crap! He had to leave now before they spotted him. He grabbed the scooter and lifted it up with some difficulty. The break hadn't made it any lighter.

Then he spotted an alternate solution. Leaning on a wall nearby a crashed car was a bicycle. Aside from a bent left handle, it looked to be in good condition. It wouldn't be as fast as the motor scooter, but it would be easier to manage and a lot quieter.

"Sorry," he said to the motor scooter as he set it down and went for the bicycle. He hoped this wouldn't be more of a hassle than it was worth either.

As he lifted the bike up, he heard some moans coming from under the car. He turned to see a monster pinned under the front wheels reaching out for Clay. It was in pretty bad shape. The fingers on its left hand had been chewed off. Its legs were twisted and mashed under the tires. A chunk of its hair had been pulled out. Other than that though, it couldn't get to Clay. He would have thought nothing of it…until he saw what the monster was wearing. A nice button up white shirt, a black tie, dress slacks and…a missionary tag.

His heart sank. It was Elder Franklin, Elder Pulotu's companion. Clay checked around him. No sign of Elder Pulotu's body anywhere. Did the monsters grab him too? Or did he manage to escape? Did that mean Elder Pulotu would have aband…?

Clay pushed the thought out of his mind as he lifted a leg over the bike. He looked back to Elder Franklin, who continued to reach for Clay to no avail. Clay felt awful. A whole life ahead of this man and he ended up as road kill. Those hollow, colorless eyes were hard to look at. This was no way to leave someone, undead or not. Still, Clay just…couldn't do it.

He peddled away, navigating around the debris and vehicles. He had to have faith that Elder Pulotu was at the apartment. The two of them could be companions again like on the swap. They could handle whatever else came at them. Its not like things could get any worst than-

KABOOM!

He had to say it didn't he. He didn't even need to look back to know the rain clouds were gathering behind him. He picked up the speed as he left the town…

…

Clay hated himself for not grabbing a jacket in Macon. Rain pelted him as he rode, soaking him from head to toe. He shivered as he kept peddling, trying to imagine some kind of miraculous circumstance at the Macon Elders' apartment. Heaters cranked to full blast. Toasty blankets to wrap himself with. Hot chocolate and spiced apple cider on a kettle. It helped keep him calm. He could at least take some comfort in knowing his backpack was waterproof.

KABOOM!

More thunder. The storm wasn't letting up. He needed to get out of the rain soon. He had no idea where he was though. There was no way he was pulling out his map at the moment. He inspected the area. A forest was on one side of the road and….No, still no idea where. Maybe he spaced out this part of the ride to the apartment during the swap. Hopefully he was going the right way. He just needed to focus.

Suddenly, Clay was flung forward from the bicycle seat. It seemed that for all of his focus, he had neglected to check the road immediately ahead or he would have avoided the branch that went under his wheel.

He skid across the road and rolled several times before he came to a stop flat on his face. His limbs pulsed with pain and his already tired body was limp. Yet even with all the rain pouring down his face, Clay could feel tears on his cheeks. He muttered a prayer asking for something to help him. A person. A helpful item. A sign. Something to keep him going. He lifted his head up…

…and saw a sign. Not a miracle sign, but it might as well have been. A large yellow sign towered over a group of buildings a few yards ahead. A flash of lightning illuminated the sign to reveal what was written on it: TRAVELIER MOTEL.

A motel! Clay could hide out there until the rain stopped. He picked himself up and grabbed the bike. His arms throbbed as he pushed it forward, but at least he had a place to rest.

The place looked run down, but nowhere near as bad as Macon. The worst he saw was a collapsed section of a building's top balcony. It looked like something pushed that part off, based on the way the wood bent and broke. Other than that, it seemed safe. He saw the top of an RV parked in the middle of the area, though he couldn't tell if there were any other cars past the…wall? That was weird. Why was there a wall around the whole motel?

That question answered itself quickly. There was brick wall from whoever built the motel originally, but continuing from where it stopped was a hastily assembled wall of wood and metal sidings. Down the way, he saw two large dumpsters that appeared to be an entrance.

Someone was living here already! Maybe they were friendly, like some family who banded together to survive the worst. Then again, it could be full of crazy redneck murderers. Based on some of the people Clay met while serving in Atlanta, he wouldn't be surprised.

He took a deep breath and approached the dumpsters. Whoever it was, Clay was going to find out. He just needed to treat it like a door approach…without the stuttering and offering to share about the Book of Mormon.

He peeked into the motel through the crack between the dumpsters. It seemed pretty quiet inside. He couldn't see anyone. There was just the RV, some lawn chairs, a custom made veranda and other scattered items.

He knocked on one of the dumpsters. "Hello?" He shouted inside. Nobody responded. He doubted the monsters could hear him over the thunder and rain. "Hello?!" He shouted a little louder. Still no answer. Ok…time to break one of the mission rules. He pushed one of the dumpsters back and wheeled his bike inside.

Aside from what Clay saw of the place already, there wasn't much unusual about it. There was a truck parked near the collapsed balcony. There was a table, a couch and some chairs underneath that custom veranda. The RV's hood was popped out from being worked on, which Clay concluded from the toolbox near it. The place was completely devoid of electricity. Figures. Power went out all over the state shortly after the outbreak.

Clay examined the makeshift wall as he approached the truck. Whoever was living here before, they certainly weren't construction workers. It was fine enough to keep the monsters somewhat at bay. Still, the layout was pretty shoddy. Uncle Hyrum would have shouted out Clay if he built something like that.

Clay parked his bike on the opposite side of the truck …and then he spotted what looked like blood trickling off the truck bed. It was pooling into a puddle with more blood from the opposite side. Gulping a little, Clay peeked around to see the cause.

A body was sprawled on the ground. It was an older man with shaggy hair and a beard. It wore some sort of blue school sports outfit. Its skin was clammy and decrepit. Clay couldn't exactly tell, but he hoped it reanimated before he got that freaking huge bullet hole through the back of his head.

Clay didn't figure there were any more monsters around, but he decided to check the rooms just in case. He peered into the windows one by one. They were all pretty dark, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. That must have been a stray monster the former occupants dealt with…or someone who gave up.

Clay shivered as he rubbed his arms to circulate his blood. He was getting cold and tired again. And it didn't look like the rain was letting up anytime soon. And he really could use some good sleep…

So the next half an hour was spent winding down. Clay stripped out of his wet clothes to let them dry. He found a towel in one of the rooms and dried himself off before putting on some fresh clothes. He then had himself a nice meal of cold canned chili and some bread.

He also used what little light he could find to read some of his scriptures. As silly as it would seem to anyone else, reading his scriptures was a good anchor for him during the worst moments. It was at least something familiar from his life before. He picked up where he left off in Third Book of Nephi in the Book of Mormon. It was where all the conundrum following Jesus' death had happened in the Americas, causing earthquakes, tidal waves and other disasters. Then came the three days of darkness. Clay found himself sympathizing with their situation. At least these people would find solace in the next chapter knowing Jesus was resurrected…

After reading a few chapters and saying a prayer, Clay gathered his stuff and entered a room. It had been used before, but there was only a few items left there're last occupant. He slinked under the blanket and rested his head on the pillow. He hadn't slept in a bed this nice for a long time…

…

Clay found himself in a large room. He had been here before, he thought to himself. He didn't remember where, but it was as familiar as the back of his hand. It was barren and empty, except for a chair he was sitting on. He couldn't tell what color everything was, as it kept changing.

A door appeared on the wall in front of him. "Open it," a voice called out. Clay stood up and grabbed the knob. It was stuck. He struggled a bit more, but the knob wouldn't turn. He let go and went to sit back in the chair.

He was outside now. He saw that he was suddenly in his missionary attire, nametag and all. From behind, a hand rested on his shoulder.

"It's going to be a good day, Elder," a familiar voice spoke into his ear. Elder Smith lifted his hand off Clay's shoulder and walked ahead of him. Clay followed, but his feet refused to lift higher than a few inches. It felt like he was wearing concrete shoes.

Clay tried to signal Elder Smith to stop. "Hey! Hey!" Elder Smith just kept going. Clay grabbed his foot and tried to move it. The foot was heavy. He pushed himself forward one step at a time with great difficulty.

He rounded a corner and saw the pharmacy from Macon. It was the afternoon and people walked through the streets. Some of the people looked familiar, but not from anywhere in Clay's mission. One of them was his high school gym teacher, Mr. Wenders. Another was that girl Anna Hernandez from his local church. He forgot how nice she smelled. And then there was-

"What the hell are you doing, you little worm?"

Him. Clay recognized that man before he even spoke. He had a scruffy, unshaven beard and mustache. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath reeked of alcohol. He wore that same hideous button up yellow shirt he always wore too. The man approached Clay, whose feet were now stuck to the ground.

"You out doing that church crap? Who wants to listen to you?" The man was right up in Clay's face. It was a situation Clay remembered vividly. "What, you gonna bring Jesus into their lives? Fat damn chance!"

Behind the man, Elder Smith waved for Clay to follow him. People were running now. The man grabbed Clay's jaw and redirected him to his face.

"You don't mean shit to no one. You're just like that bitch. And she's raising you to be a bitch too!"

Clay tried to talk back, but he couldn't open his mouth. He looked back to Elder Smith, who now was very panicked. A horde of monsters flooded around Elder Smith. Bullets flew into the pile of monsters, but went through them like going into thin air.

The man redirected Clay to him again, now shaking Clay's head with both hands. "You're pathetic!" The man hiccupped drunkenly. "You're just a lousy bucket of crap that spilled out of your mother. Who would ever love you?"

Clay wanted to leave so bad. He tried as hard as he could move his arms and legs. They were as limp as noodles. His eyes shifted to Elder Smith. The monsters bit down on his arms, pushing him to the ground. They swarmed over him like a pile of ants. No…not again…

"HEELLLPPP MEEEEE!" Elder Smith reached out a hand for help. Clay wanted to reach out and save him. Pull him out from under the pile of monsters. But he couldn't move an inch.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" The man shook Clay. "Didn't your mom teach you any damn manners?"

He lifted his hand. Clay closed his eyes fearfully. This is where things went really bad.

SLAP!

…

Clay shot out of the bed awake, tumbling off the edge onto the floor. He was hyperventilating. He closed his eyes again, but he couldn't feel tired enough to sleep. He gripped at the carpet with both hands. His heart was racing. He counted to ten extra slowly.

One…

Two…..

Three…...

Four…...

He felt his heart rate go down. He was breathing softer now. His hands let go of the carpet. Good. It only took to four this time.

He tried to remember where he was. He checked his surroundings as his memory pieced together. He was in the room in the motel he found. He was waiting for the rain to stop. All of his personal items in his backpack were still there. There was no one else around.

He sighed deeply. His body was weak and he was pretty sure he was getting sick. He thought being this tired would help him sleep easier. The dreams didn't happen when he slept well.

Clay got his feet. It was still dark outside, but the rain had stopped. He exited the room to check for sure, scooping up his backpack on the way. He didn't like being separated from it.

The rain had probably stopped no more than an hour ago. Water dripped off various places and he could feel the humidity all about him. Clay had no watch, so he had no idea how long he had been asleep for. It certainly was not enough.

He stumbled over to the couch and flopped onto it. He was tired, but he couldn't calm his brain down to sleep. Bits and pieces of the dream floated about his brain, though he was unable to piece everything together. All he remembered was the fear and confusion. And the face of his dad…

Clay rubbed his temples. It was just a dream, he thought to himself. None of that was real. Dad wasn't there. Everything was fine. He tuned out his thoughts to listen to the environment around him. The chirp of crickets in the distance. The dripping of rainwater. The sound of footsteps on dirt growing-

Footsteps? Clay's eyes shot up. Sure enough, there were footsteps and they were getting louder. There were people coming! This place wasn't abandoned. Whoever was living here was coming out from the woods.

"Was the dumpster like that when you left?" A deep voiced black man said.

"Not that I remember," a soft voiced woman said. "You pushed it back in, right?"

"Yeah…." A raspy voiced teenager said. "….Maybe….Sorry…."

"Great," a man with a heavy drawl said, "First day here and he leaves the front door open for the walkers."

"I said I was sorry," the teen said.

Clay jumped off the couch and went into the RV. He closed the door behind him and moved to the back of the vehicle. He kept away from the windows so no one could spot him. If he thought more clearly, he probably would have chosen a better hiding spot. He just had to stay quiet.

He heard the group slide the dumpster back into place and walk inside. He could make out the sound of stuff rattling in cardboard boxes. A few of the people set these boxes down on that table outside. One of them groaned in pain as he did.

"Dad?" A young boy said.

"I'm fine, Duck," the drawl man said.

"I should take a look at that," an older woman said. The three of them wandered off to some other place.

To the opposite side of the RV, Clay heard a pair of footsteps stop.

"Lee…" A young girl said. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad, sweet pea?" The black man said.

"Because I didn't let you take anything from the car."

"No. I agreed with you that we shouldn't." Clay heard him bend down to her. "You did the right thing. Sometimes adults act…rashly when things are tough. We need people like you to remind us how to be better."

"Did Kenny do a bad thing?"

The black man sighed. "It's hard to say. We do need food and it's getting harder to come across it. I'm sure we'll find a way to get more."

"So is Kenny not going to share?"

"I'll talk to him about that. You should to get some sleep though. It's been a hard day."

"Ok."

Clay heard the two of them embrace. He found this moment sweet. At least some people tried to help teach a child how to be a nice person. He didn't quite follow the specifics of the conversation, but he understood the gist.

The young girl's footsteps trailed off and another person's footsteps approached.

"Lilly…" The black man said.

"Just…let me sleep," a gruff voiced woman said as she continued.

"I…" Clay heard the gruff woman's footsteps stop. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't kill him…" The gruff woman sniffled. It sounded like she was holding back tears. Ok….somebody killed someone else? Things were a bit more complicated.

"You know I would done everything I could to save him."

"I know…" The gruff woman then left.

Clay brainstormed what he should do. He could come out of the vehicle and talk to the black man since he sounded nice. However, strangers hiding in an RV may put off even nice people. He could wait for everyone to fall asleep and slip out quietly. If there was somebody watching, he could use the darkness as some kind of cover. He just needed to not be noticed. He had gathered everything from the room, right? There wouldn't be anything suspic-

"Hey Dad," the young boy said, "Whose bike is this?"

CRAP!

"Huh?" The drawl man replied.

"This one." The boy wheeled out the bike from where Clay left it.

"The hell…?" The drawl man said. "Hey Carley! You or Ben find a bike before you left?"

"No," the soft voiced woman responded.

"I definitely didn't do that," the raspy teen said.

Clay sensed the paranoia rising. Maybe...maybe they would think it was just a fluke. Bikes randomly pop up in all kinds of place, right?

"Somebody's here," the gruff woman said as she approached the group.

"I take it no one has had chili since you left either," the black man said.

DOUBLE CRAP!

"Maybe they're gone," The older woman said.

"That looks pretty fresh hon," the drawl man said. "Doubt they've gotten anywhere far."

"I bet the St. John's sent one of their friends to wait for us," the gruff woman said. "Just in case they needed more victims."

"Or one of the bandits came to scout this place," the soft voiced woman said.

"Shit," the black man said. "Alright, we should check for whoever it is before we jump to any conclusions."

Clay slowly slinked into the RV restroom and closed the door. Again, he wasn't helping his case hiding like this. They thought he was some kind of bandit. Acting suspicious would just reinforce that. Still, he was in this deep so he could only go deeper. He set his bag down and slowed his breathing.

He heard the people walk about to look for him. A cold sweat formed on his neck and he shivered. He prayed in his mind that they wouldn't find him. Maybe they wouldn't check the restroom. Maybe they wouldn't check the RV. They would have to think it was dumb for someone to hide in there too, right?

The RV shifted and someone walked up the steps. Clay didn't dare move a millimeter. Another pair of footsteps followed the other. There was silence. Clay's heart beat in his throat. They were coming his way. His mental prayer became more fervent.

His nose started to itch. TRIPLE CRAP! Not now! He shook his nose to suppress the sneeze. It was intensifying. He slowly covered his nostrils. The sneeze wavered. It was almost worse doing that, since he didn't know if it was dying down or returning with force. Just hold it for a bit longer….and a bit longer more.

The footsteps moved away. His sneeze was dying down too. Clay quietly sighed to himself as he moved his hand from his nose.

And then the door flung open!

The woman in the doorway was an intimidating sight. She was tall and clearly well toned in her muscles. Her long brown hair draped over her grey tank top and black jacket. Her steely eye zeroed in on Clay. The freakiest thing about her though was that her face and clothes were covered in huge gouts of dried blood. Best guess was it wasn't hers. Clay opened his mouth to shout…

…until her fist flew into his face. The pain disorientated Clay as she grabbed him by his shirt collar and slammed him on a wall outside. She then flung him onto the floor and grabbed both of his hands. Clay felt a rope wrap around his wrists. Crap crap crap! This was not going well!

"Get the hell up!" She lifted him to his feet and marched him out of the RV. Great. A lamb to the slaughter. Clay's panic was rampant now.

The two of them exited the RV and entered the main area. The woman threw Clay onto the ground. Asphalt scraped across his already throbbing face. He didn't dare look up though. His body was already weak as it was and the pain combined with the restraints didn't encourage movement.

"What the…?" The drawl man said.

"Oh my!" The older woman said.

"Whoa!" The boy said.

"Geez!" The soft voiced woman said.

Well, looks like everyone Clay heard outside was here.

"Found this little rat hiding in the RV," the gruff woman said. She grabbed Clay by his hair and lifted him up. It hurt a lot! "Who sent you?"

"N…n…no one," Clay said nervously as he suppressed the pain from her grip. She dropped him back onto the ground.

"Bullshit! You're working for those bandits, aren't you?"

Clay was too afraid to reply. The woman picked up something.

"Answer me!" Clay felt the end of a rifle on the top of his head. He whimpered and cowered. This lady was going to shoot him!

"Lilly!" The black man shouted. "Calm down!"

"Why should I? Trusting strangers hasn't done us shit today!"

"You've already disarmed him. He's not going to hurt anyone."

"Oh yeah? What if his buddies are hiding out in the woods waiting to catch us off-guard? Are we going to let them chop us into meat too?" She jammed a foot into Clay's side. Whatever bits of the chili left in Clay's stomach was forcing its way up his throat.

"They probably would have already if he was with them," the older lady said.

"She's not wrong hon," the drawl man said to the older woman. "We don't know who this-"

"Shut up, Kenny!" The gruff woman…Lilly… snapped at him. The end of her rifle didn't move from Clay's head. He mentally rambled off whatever repenting he needed to do if he was going to die right now.

"What's going on?" The young girl said from behind Lilly and Clay.

"Clem, go back to your room," the black man said.

"He looks sick."

Clay started to turn to the young girl, but Lilly pressed her rifle down on him more. "Don't you move a damn inch!"

Clay held back his sobs. He mentally pleaded for God to intervene or something.

Clay then heard footsteps approach.

"What are you-?" Lilly said as Clay felt the rifle moved off his head.

"That's enough Lilly!" The black man shouted back at her. "Haven't we had enough of people's lives hanging in the balance today?" Lilly stumbled trying to respond back. Clay exhaled nervously before a coughing fit caught hold of him. "You really want to know what he's up to? Ask him."

There was a beat of silence. Clay felt that a tough decision was being made here. Why did this have to be tough though?

He felt Lilly's hand grab his hair again. "Get up." She lifted Clay onto his knees and walked towards the group with the black man and the girl.

"God…" the raspy teen said. Clay imagined he didn't look at his best right now. He wasn't feeling his best either. He lifted his head and saw the group.

It seemed like a very motley crew. On the left was a man in a green shirt with a wound at his side and the biggest mustache Clay had seen in a while. To his left was a plump older woman with blond hair. Between them was a young boy with freckles and short brown hair. Seeing how close together they were, Clay guessed they were family.

To their left was a lanky and tall teen with a sports jacket that looked similar to the dead guy's from before. To his left was the black man, a stern and tall guy with a grizzled beard. Standing next to him was the young girl, who had a white skirt, a baseball cap and incredibly curly hair. And next to them was Lilly…but Clay tried not to meet her steely eyes again.

He also noticed that to the left of Lilly was maybe one of the most beautiful women Clay had ever seen. She was slender, had nicely kept brown hair and a purple vest on. The woman approached Clay and inspected his face. "Jesus, Lilly. You gave him a shiner."

Lilly crossed her arms. She seemed displeased this was happening.

The woman looked Clay in the eyes. "What's your name?"

Clay struggled to overcome his anxiety to speak. "C…c-c…Clay."

"Clay?" The drawl man said. "Don't hear a name like that often."

"Why were you hiding in the RV?" The black man asked.

"I…I don't know…" Well that wasn't a good answer to give. He saw that the others agreed. He gathered his thoughts together. "I…I found this place…I mean, I…I saw that this place was…I mean…"

"It's ok. Just take a breath and relax," the woman next to him said.

Clay breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly as he continued. "I rode up here…to find some place nearby. I…I didn't know you were living here still. I needed a place to get out…hide from the rain."

"Where were you coming from?" The black man asked.

Before he could respond, Clay had another coughing fit. The woman backed up from him and Clay slumped forward.

"He's not looking too well," the older woman said worried.

"You think he might have been bit?" The drawl man said.

"I think that's a bit much to conclude on," the black man said.

"Shit Lee, look at him. It wouldn't be too hard to assume."

"Fine. I'll check him," the black….Lee…said. Clay slowly got back upright as Lee approached him. Lee checked Clay for…something. Did they think one of the monsters bit him? Clay knew he wasn't bitten. It was their word against his though.

"What's this?" Lee asked Clay as he grabbed Clay's hand. Lee must have found the cut now that he didn't have that tie to cover it.

"Is he bit?" the drawl man asked.

"I don't think so. Looks like a knife wound" Lee wasn't wrong. "What happened?"

Clay turned his head to Lee. "I…I was attacked…"

"By who? The bandits?"

Clay didn't know how to explain, so he didn't. The situation behind that was frustrating enough to remember. He slumped his head down. Lee sighed as he moved to the group. "Well, he's not bitten."

"Why were you riding a bike?" The young girl asked Clay.

Clay looked back at them. "I was…looking for my friends. They're living at…" He tried to recall the name of the Macon Elders' apartment. "The…uh…The Orchid Arms."

Lee and the drawl man looked to each other concerned, then back to Clay. "We checked that building out a few weeks ago," Lee said, "No one's been there for a while."

That was not the news Clay needed to hear. "No one?"

Lee shook his head. "The only people in there were dead or a walker."

So Elder Pulotu didn't make it. Maybe he wasn't at the Orchid Arms though. Maybe he did what Clay did and went somewhere else. If so, then Clay had no other leads to go on. He slumped his shoulders and frowned.

"I'm sorry," Lee apologized.

Clay continued staring at the ground. His recalled Elder Franklin still trapped under that car. A tear formed as he could only imagine what happened to Elder Pulotu. The guy was tough, but even he had his limits.

"Do you have any friends or family here?" The older woman asked Clay.

"No," Clay replied somberly. "I came here from Atlanta hoping to find someone-"

"Whoa whoa!" The drawl man interrupted. "Atlanta?"

Clay looked up again and nodded. He was a bit confused by the man's confusion.

"Atlanta's been completely overrun for months," Lilly noted. "You saying you just finally left there?"

Clay shook his head as he tried to clarify. "I was living there before the….walkers got there. I went back to get some things before I came here."

The teen looked over at the bike. "You rode from Atlanta on that?"

Clay shook his head. He figured he wasn't making a very credible story right now. "I…I had a motor scooter. It's…back in Macon….I mean, I ran out of gas…no, I mean IT ran out of gas…so I…left it there…I guess…"

The group just stared at him. Some of them looked concerned. Others were a bit more judgmental. Some were just worried. Well, he had no evidence to prove that was true to be fair. And he was rambling like a fool…as usual.

"I'm done," Lilly said walking away from the group. "You guys deal with this all you want." She glared at Clay as she continued to a room and closed the door behind her.

The remaining adults and the teenager gathered together and spoke quietly. From the few words Clay could make out, they were figuring out what to do. He coughed and stifled a sneeze as he waited uncomfortably. The little girl and boy approached Clay curiously.

"I'm sorry Lilly hurt you," the little girl said innocently.

"Yeah, she really beat you up," the boy added. "You look like a purple eyed ghost."

"Duck!" The little girl rebuked him.

"Kids!" The older woman called out. The girl and boy hesitated for a moment, then went back to join the group.

After a bit more talking, Lee went to Clay and lifted him to his feet. At least he was polite about it. He didn't free Clay's hands though. Instead, he led Clay back to another room nearby. Clay saw everyone else watching him. It was like some freaking prisoner escort.

"What are you going to do with him, Dad?" The boy asked his dad. Clay couldn't hear what the drawl man answered, but it didn't seem like a sure answer.

Lee opened the door and led Clay into the room. "I'm sorry. We…need to discuss this further. Get some sleep in the meantime." And with that, Lee closed the door, slid something to block it from the outside and returned to the group.

So Clay really was a prisoner. He watched through the window as Lee said something to the group and led the little girl away. One by one, the group broke up and left to their respective rooms. The soft voiced woman lingered as she looked at Clay with some regret before leaving too. No one was going to decide anything right now. Seems that Clay had a delay in execution. There wouldn't be an execution though…right?

He approached the bed in his cell…room. He was about to complain how he couldn't even move the blanket because they didn't cut his bonds, but tiredness and fatigue quelled his frustration. It wouldn't do him much good anyway. He collapsed onto the bed and shifted his head onto the pillow.

Even though he had found people, he was still alone. Except now he didn't even have his backpack with him. His scriptures, spare clothes, food and everything else were in the RV. Everything he needed to survive…or have an identity…was sitting in a crapper. Fitting. He closed his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, he wished to be back in Utah. He wished he could see his mom, brother and sister again. He wished he was in his own bed where he felt wanted…

...

**Pretty down in the dumps, huh? That's The Walking Dead for you. Don't worry, things should pick up a little for Clay in the chapter to come.**

**In the meantime, leave your comments, check out my other Fanfic The Last of an Ancient Breed, put your tray tables back in the upright position and have a great day! Will update soon (and since I have no school at the moment, I mean it).  
**


	3. Meet and Greet

**So life has been more chill post-finals...yet I am still a bit slow churning this out. Sometimes inspiration doesn't hit immediately. Go figure.**

**And here is my usual plug to check out Last of an Ancient Breed on the Halo/Mass Effect section, as well as the source fanfiction The Last Spartan by DinoJake. End plug.  
**

**Thank you to the people who have commented on the story so far. I am still open to additional feedback for anyone who would like to. It's really fun and the comments can help give me ideas for how to improve or direct the story.**

**So without further ado, here is the next chapter in Clay's adventure. When we last left our hero, he was beaten up by Lilly, bound up and left in a room in the Travelier Motel. What will come out of this? Let's find out.  
**

**...**

Clay's night consisted of much tossing and turning. And not the fun kind…whatever that euphemism he assumed people would say may imply. It was hard to get comfortable enough for a consistent sleep when you were sick, in pain and had your hands bound behind your back.

That was just the physical stuff though. The biggest thing on his mind was wondering what the group outside would do with him. He hadn't been killed yet, so there was at least some conflict over a decision. Would they just leave him in this room? Would they try to interrogate him? Would they hurt him again? Would they kick him out? Worst-case scenarios ran across his mind, each more peculiar and potentially worst than the last.

The sun rose in the distance and flooded his room with light. Looking out the window, he saw Lee on a lawn chair on top of the RV. Lee was keeping a vigilant watch over the place with a rifle in his hands. So they kept regular guard duty, probably for the monsters and bandits. He was sure they were also keeping an eye in case he tried to escape. Not like he had anywhere to go though.

At the other building, the rest of the group exited their rooms. Lee hopped off the RV to greet the mustached man, who seemed a bit surly. Clay turned away from the window and struggled to cover the blanket over him. He shivered and stifled a sneeze. He could see some dried blood from his face on the pillow too. Whatever condition he was in, he was not going to be a sideshow for them. If he just looked away, maybe they would leave him alone.

"Has he been like that all night?" Clay heard the mustache man outside his window. Yup, just like he expected. Don't look at them, he kept repeating in his head.

"Looks like it," Lee replied. "Haven't seen anything out of the ordinary yet."

"You buy any of that stuff he said?"

"He didn't sound like he was lying. Hard to tell with people these days."

"Tell me about it." The drawl man groaned a little.

"How's it feeling?" Lee asked concerned.

"Still acting up. Katjaa gave it her best, but I'll probably be like this for a few days."

"Let's hope we don't have any other surprises coming our way."

"Yeah…"

Clay shifted a bit to get more comfy. They were probably just discussing a few details that he had no understanding for, so he could tune out-

"You still pissed?" The mustache man asked. There was silence. This caught Clay's attention.

"You could have waited, Kenny." Lee replied. "He would have lived."

"I did what I had to, Lee. If I didn't do something-"

"He might have pulled through."

"And what if he didn't? Would you risk Clementine's life on a hunch?" Clay listened more intently. The man sighed angrily. "Not like I ever get a thank you for sticking my ass on the line."

"Kenny-"

"And what was that you said last night? 'You're no hero'? Want to re-think that? Because from what I saw, I was the only one who had the balls to do what was needed."

"We can't just do something like that rashly."

"Who said it was rash? I saw a problem and I dealt with it. Figure that's what normal people do when they see something going to shit."

Even if they were not shouting, Clay could feel the tension. What did this other guy…Kenny…do? He tilted his head a bit to listen better.

"Kenny. You keep pushing for everyone to leave, but you're not thinking this through. How the hell are you going to convince Lilly now?"

"She wants to keep this piss hole of a motel? She can have it. Not like we need her."

"You're both as important to this group as everyone else."

"I can do anything she can."

"You know that's not true!"

There was a suppressed sound of frustration and then silence. Clay gripped on the blanket tighter. What did he get himself into?

Then Kenny said something odd. "Is he listening to us?" Uh-oh! They must have seen him move. Clay remained motionless and waited to see what would happen. He slowed his breathing to look like he was still sleeping.

"…guess not." Lee said. Phew! Clay continued to keep still, but he considered himself lucky.

"You going to deal with him?"

"Is that a question or an order?"

"How should I know? I can't give orders like Lilly can now, can I?" Clay heard Kenny's footsteps walking away and Lee groan. So on top of whatever married couple drama was going on, Clay had to expect that they were going to 'deal with him' soon.

Another pair of footsteps approached Lee. "How's he doing?" It was the pretty woman from last night.

"He's still a bit steamed," Lee answered. "Probably best to let him-"

"No, I meant him." Clay sensed that she was pointing at him.

"Oh. Well, he's still in the room."

"Very astute observation. You should be a reporter." Clay heard her put a hand on the window. "Think we should talk to him?"

"I don't know. Lilly probably wouldn't-"

"Lilly doesn't have to tell you what to do all the time. You can talk to him if you want."

"I know. It's not just that though. I mean…" Lee struggled to find the right thing to say. "Yesterday was some of the worst shit I've ever had to deal with."

"I know."

"And just a day after we trusted some people who tried to eat us, we get some guy hiding in our RV."

That was…disconcerting. 'People who tried to eat us?' What kind of people did this group usually find?

"Well…it's your call."

There was a pause. Clay waited for Lee's response. Hopefully he was a sounder person than Lilly was.

"I'll talk to him." Clay sighed. Well, that's better.

"Good. I'll come in too."

"I wouldn't want him to hurt you."

"It's not like I won't have protection."

"True. I'm pretty sure I can handle anything he can throw."

"I meant my gun, Lee."

"Oh. Right, that too."

Lee and the woman slid whatever was blocking the door aside. Well…ready or not, Clay had to be awake for this. He felt a bit anxious. He didn't exactly start on good terms with these people. Maybe a good night sleep would soften things.

The door opened. Clay lifted himself up pretending to have just woken up…and noticed a knife in Lee's hand! Clay flopped onto the floor. Great! More threats!

"Hey! Whoa whoa!" Lee entered the room with the woman behind him. "It's ok."

Clay backed up until he hit the wall. Lee looked down at the knife. "Sorry…probably not the best thing to wake up to," He said realizing. Clay looked away as Lee walked over and knelt in front of him. "I'm still going to be in front of you, so you might as well look at me."

Clay slowly turned his head to face Lee. The man's eyes were determined and hardened, yet still soft. At least his face was a better one to have burned in Clay's mind than Lilly's blood soaked scowl.

"I'm sorry about last night." Lee said. "Hopefully we can start on a better foot today."

Clay still watched the knife in Lee's hand out of the corner of his vision.

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to and I'm not looking for one," Lee said. He must have saw Clay looking at the knife. Lee than grabbed Clay by the arm and lifted him to his feet. "If we want to work this out, we need to establish some kind of trust." Lee grabbed Clay's bound hands. "If I cut you free, you promise not to do anything funny?"

Clay looked over to the woman still by the door. He could see the pistol in her pocket. Even if he was thinking about escaping, he probably couldn't get past her shot, let alone anyone else with a gun in this place. He turned to Lee and nodded.

After a few seconds of sawing, the bonds fell from his hands. Clay rubbed them together to circulate the blood. They felt bloated and tingly, but at least he had control of them again.

"Must have been damn uncomfortable," Lee said to Clay. Clay nodded back and moved to the bed. Lee and the woman sat at the chairs by the window as Clay had another coughing fit. He probably didn't appear any better than he felt, as the woman's concerned look indicated.

"So…" The woman attempted to find something to say. "…it's Clay, right?"

Clay nodded again.

"My name's Carley. This is Lee." She pointed to Lee, who nodded to Clay.

There was a beat of silence as they tried to find something to say. That didn't comfort Clay much. They didn't go for the aggressive route, but they weren't exactly 'good cop' either. The tingle in his hands faded as Lee spoke up.

"So you're from Atlanta?"

Clay shook his head.

"Well, where are you from?"

Clay hesitated before speaking up nervously. "U…u-utah."

"Pretty far from home." Carley replied.

"Yeah…"

"Are you a missionary?"

Clay was a bit surprised at how specific that question was. Carley reached into her pocket and pulled out….missionary tags!

"We found these in your backpack in the RV," Carley continued. "Had to make sure there you didn't have anything suspicious."

Clay nodded in understanding. Best to be cautious with people hiding bags in a bathroom, he figured.

Carley tossed the tags onto his bed, which Clay snatched up immediately. "So is your name Clay or Elder?"

"E-elder's a title," Clay stuttered in reply. "It's…it's, uh, like Mr."

"How come you have two?" Lee asked.

Clay recalled taking Elder Smith's tag from the apartment. He remembered gripping tightly onto that badge like a cherished memento. Well, that and he did the same right now with both tags in his hand. He put the tags close to his chest.

"I take it you knew this Elder Smith?" Lee asked.

Clay nodded. Lee must have saw Clay's name printed on his scriptures. There was no other way he could know Clay wasn't Elder Smith.

"He…" Clay struggled to speak. "He was a good friend…"

"I'm sorry," Carley said.

Clay pocketed the tags and closed his eyes. He should ask it now to save them time. "Are you going to kick me out?"

The other two hesitated. That was not a good sign.

"I'm sorry…" He quickly apologized. "I…I didn't mean to…I can leave right now if you want."

Clay stood up, but another coughing fit caught hold of him.

"I don't think you're going anywhere any time soon," Lee said.

Clay sat back onto the bed and lay onto it. He was still pretty sick, it seems.

"We're not really agreed as a group what to do with you," Carley added, "but Lee and I don't want to throw you out." So he at least had two votes of confidence.

"It's not a guarantee you will stay, but we thought you should know," Lee said. And there went Clay's confidence. "Was everything you said last night true?"

Clay nodded as he sat back up.

"That must have taken a lot of courage to ride all the way from Atlanta," Carley said. Clay held back a smile. It couldn't have been THAT much courage, but the way she said it made him feel a bit of pride.

Then there was a knock at the front door. Lee went over and opened it. On the other side was the older looking woman from last night.

"Lee, Lilly hasn't left her room yet. She's usually up by now."

"She had a rough night, Katjaa," Lee said. "I think she needs her space."

"I know…but something doesn't feel right. Call it some kind of intuition. Maybe you should check on her. Just to see if she's ok."

Lee looked back to Carley and Clay before turning back to the woman…Katjaa. "Alright. Do we have some cold medicine to spare?"

"I think there might be some with the supplies we found. Is it for…?" She nodded towards Clay.

"He can see you, Katjaa."

"I know."

Clay sighed. Looks like Katjaa wasn't sold on Clay being trustworthy yet. She didn't even properly address him.

"…yeah, it's for him."

"...ok. I'll get some."

"Thanks."

The two of them left. So now it was just Clay and Carley alone in the room.

"Sorry about that," Carley said. "Things have been pretty bad lately."

Clay's curiosity was getting the better of him now. He would probably regret asking, but he may not get an answer if he waits. "W…what happened?"

"Hm?"

"To Lilly…"

Carley hesitated to answer. It didn't seem like she couldn't answer, but didn't know how to start.

"I'm sorry," Clay apologized. "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Carley said. "It's just a long story." She took a breath and continued. "We almost ran out of food yesterday. We were getting pretty desperate. So when two guys came offering to trade food for some of our fuel, we blindly trusted them." Carley leaned forward. "They took us to their dairy and offered us dinner as a sign of good will. Everything seemed fine, so they sent me back here to bring everyone else. I decided to stay and keep a watch on the place until they came back…but they didn't."

Clay leaned forward too as he listened. "So I went to the dairy to go find them. Turns out…those guys were killing people and using them as meat."

Clay's eyes widened with disgust and horror. "I know," Carley said to address his disgust. "By the time I arrived, they killed a couple of our friends. We barely made it out alive ourselves."

"Are…are they still out there?" Clay asked curiously.

"I don't know," Carley replied. "Last we saw, a bunch of walkers overran the dairy as we left. Maybe they made it out and maybe they didn't. Either way, we won't give them the chance to hurt us again." She sighed. "I'm sorry. That was probably more than you needed to hear."

Clay shook his head. "No…it's ok." It probably was more than he needed to hear, but he heard it now. People had a tendency to bear their burdens on missionaries when they talked, so he just assumed that was the case here. If they didn't tell him, whom else could they tell?

"So finding you here after getting back from that was…scary," Carley added.

"Yeah," Clay replied. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize so much, you know."

"Sorry…" Clay said before he could stop himself. Great. He was that guy now.

Carley smiled. "How long have you been a missionary for?" She asked curiously.

He tried to recall when he first left. "Um…a-a month. Maybe a month and a half."

"Wow." Carley said with some surprise. "Guess you got the wrong time to go out."

"Yeah." He straightened himself up as he suppressed a cough. "So…you met missionaries before?"

"Once. I was covering a story up in Athens a few weeks ago and bumped into a couple of women missionaries. They were really nice. Did you know them?"

Of course, because every missionary knows every other missionary who has ever served in any place. Clay pushed that sarcastic response back. "M-maybe. I didn't get to know a lot of them."

"Well a month is not a lot of time."

Clay nodded.

"I don't think you're a bad person, by the way."

Clay was a bit surprised by the comment. He must not have seemed calm enough. He looked at her eyes. She was genuine saying that. "You seem like a nice guy." She added. "We're not finding enough of those these days. Maybe with a little time, the others will warm up to you."

"Yeah…" Clay said as he smiled. "I…don't think you're bad either…I mean, not a bad person….you know…" He blushed. He should have stopped earlier.

She smiled at this. "I mean, it was a shock finding you, but you haven't struck me as untrustworthy. I hope I'm right."

Clay sighed. "Me too."

Katjaa then appeared at the door and entered. In her hands she had some cold pills and Clay's backpack. She gave them to Carley and was about to leave but stopped and turned to Clay. She seemed…nervous. He didn't blame her after the story Carley told.

"..…thank you," he said.

She eased up a little before leaving.

Carley set the pills and backpack onto Clay's bed. "Here. You should probably take those. That cold isn't going to be scared away by the walkers."

She moved to the door. Well…Clay had his stuff back. He felt relieved having his pack there. It was something familiar.

"Thanks for being nice to me," he said to her.

She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, we should treat others how we want to be treated. That's the old Christian principle, isn't it?"

He smiled. "Something like that."

Before she left, Clay decided to ask one more question that was in the back of his mind. He didn't know why he should, but the prompting to do so was too much. It was too specific to just be a random thought.

"Uh, Carley…" She turned back to him. "The people who were…killed at the dairy…" He knew the answer was going to be awkward so he figured he shouldn't stall. "Did Lilly know them…like personally?"

Carley hesitated. That could only be followed by bad news. "One of them was her dad."

And there it was. "Oh...and the blood all over her…" She nodded. His stomach churned. Something had felt off about Lilly other than her being naturally scary. "Oh…ok."

A beat of silence later and Carley reached for the handle. "Hope you feel better soon." Before he could say thank you, she closed the door. She didn't slide whatever they were using to block the door though, so she trusted him not to run away. Or maybe it was to let him walk outside. Whatever the reason, he didn't feel well enough to do either.

Clay took a pill and opened his bag to get some water and food. He noticed the pills were the PM kind. It was probably for the best. Being knocked out cold might give him time to process all the information he had thrown at him…

….

Clay woke up feeling groggy and disorientated. PM cold medicine had a tendency to do that and this was no exception. He held a hand to his head and slinked out from under the blanket. He still felt a bit sick, but nearly as bad as that morning. His vision seemed unusually blurry…

…until he realized it wasn't him. The sun was setting outside and it was getting dark quick. Well…that knocked him out for a good while. He just woke in time to go to bed. Not like he needed any more sleep though. He was too rested for that.

He decided to use what light he could to read some scriptures as he helped himself to some food. He picked up where he left off in the Book of Mormon. He tried to focus on the words in front of him…

…but the medicine wasn't helping. He could read the words just fine, but the side effects were fogging up his brain. He tried with more effort. A few more verses in and his mind began to wonder. He started thinking about everything that led him to this place. Falling off the bike. Standing under the veranda. That beat down Lilly dished to him. The feeling of his hands bound behind him. Carley's smile…

He skim read the chapter and closed the scriptures. He really needed to get moving or do something to keep his brain focused. He zipped up his everything in his bag and walked to the door. He tested the knob…it was open. Good.

Clay walked out to see everyone settling down for the evening. Kenny, Katjaa and their son sat by the couch near the RV to have a chat. The young girl was coloring something on a box nearby. Carley and the teenager examined the fence for…something. Lee came out from a room nearby. There wasn't any sign of Lilly though.

Clay felt awkward. It felt like trying to find the right place to sit for lunch in high school. He would say at the construction site, but those guys were generally nicer. For all Clay knew, some of these people still thought of him as the scary stranger who hid in their bathroom, Well…he was, but still. Not like they would want to-

"Hi!"

Clay saw the young girl wave at him. He looked around to see if she was talking to someone else but he was the only person in that direction. He waved back at her timidly.

"Come see what I drew!" The young girl said with a cheerful smile.

Clay walked nervously to her. Hopefully no one would think he was a threat to her. She just wanted to show him her drawings. It was just a totally innocent request, right?

He knelt down beside the box as the girl held up a piece of paper with crayon drawings. "Look!" It was mostly a collection of animals with some child drawings of people around them. It looked like some of the stuff his brother drew when they were kids.

Clay smiled. "That's…really nice." He was being honest. He just still suspected someone was watching him suspiciously.

"Thanks. Lee found some more chalk, crayons and paper for me. Now I don't have to kick the ball all the time."

Clay was a bit confused until he saw a soccer ball by some metal drums. Ah…so not a lot of stuff available for a kid to play with here.

"I can understand that," Clay said. "Hey…um…I'm sorry if I scared you guys yesterday."

"I think Lilly scared you more than you scared us. She can be mean, but she's not bad."

"Yeah..." She was right about him being more scared, but he wouldn't admit it…yet.

"Are you still sick?" She asked curiously.

"Hm? Oh, uh, I don't think so. I'm not feeling the best yet, but I'm feeling better."

"That's good. Being sick is the worst. I had to miss a lot of school because I got a flu once."

"It can be pretty rough," He said. "Uh, I'm Clay by the way."

"I'm Clementine." She flipped the paper over and started some more doodles.

"That's a very nice name."

"Thanks. Your name's cool too."

Clay sat there uncomfortably as she cheerfully continued drawing. "So…you like to draw?"

She nodded. "Mmhmm. My teacher let us draw during free time. It's really fun. Do you draw?"

"Um….a little."

"Want to draw with me?"

Clay nervously checked around. It didn't seem like anyone was there to judge him for playing with her. It could be a nice way to relax too. "Sure." He slid over as Clementine pulled out a piece of paper for him. She also handed him a blue crayon.

"I don't need this one right now," she said.

Clay took the crayon with a smile. "I don't think I'm as good as you so don't judge me." She giggled at that.

Ok…what to draw? Clay hadn't done any sketches or drawings in a long time. He was never a master artist, but he did doodle on the back of homework assignments back in the day. One teacher even commented on a drawing and mentioned he should keep practicing. He didn't think it was that good…but he did keep the drawing pinned up in his room for a few years.

After deciding on a subject, he started to draw. Using a crayon wasn't as easy as a pencil or pen, but he did his best. The more he drew, the more naturally his drawing skills came back to him.

"So what did you do before…everything?" Clementine asked.

He was going to mention being a missionary, but he wasn't exactly sure how to explain that to her. He probably could, but he decided to go for the easier answer for now. "Back home, I used to be a construction worker."

"Really? Did you wear the hat and everything?"

"Only when we really needed them….so yeah, all the time,"

"Cool. What did you build?"

"Oh you know. Houses, office buildings, other stuff. I even helped build a playground once."

"Fun! Did you get to play on it when you were done?"

"Well, it would have looked weird seeing an adult like me go down the slide. Unless you wanted to see my big butt get stuck halfway down."

She giggled. "You're not that big! Ben's taller than you."

"Who?" He asked. She pointed to the tall teenager with Carley. "Oh right. Yeah, he would have got stuck first."

She giggled at that too. Funny. He didn't think it would be this easy to talk to a kid. She was being really nice to him though. He needed a friendly person to talk to, so at least she wasn't being judgmental.

After another minute, he put the crayon down and showed Clementine the picture. "What do you think? It's probably not that good."

She grabbed the paper and checked the drawing. "Oh cool! It's a puppy."

Actually it was supposed to be a full-grown dog, but if she wanted it to be a puppy then it could be one. "Yeah, it's my dog Gus from back home."

"Cool. Was he a good dog?"

"Yeah, he was. You, uh, you can keep the picture if you want."

"Really?" She asked. Clay nodded. "Thanks Clay!"

Just then, Lee approached the two of them. Clay straightened himself up in case Lee was about to criticize him for spending too much time with Clementine.

"Hey Lee," Clementine said he approached. "Look what Clay drew for me."

"Oh?" He looked over her shoulder at the drawing. "That's really nice, Clay."

Clay didn't know if that was a genuine compliment or not, but he decided to just answer politely. "Uh…th-thanks."

Lee sat down by Clementine. "You two having a good time together?"

"Yeah," Clementine said. "Clay's been really nice to me."

"Well that's good. Feeling any better, Clay?"

"Yeah," Clay said. "The medicine helped a lot. I'm just feeling a bit…wobbly, you know."

"I've been sick before, so I know." Lee said.

Clay looked down to the ground nervously. Lee probably thought he was some kind of freeloader for just sleeping all day and doing drawings with a kid. Clay's mission president wouldn't tolerate idly using time. Maybe he should try being more missionary like. "So…uh…can…can I help with anything?" Lee seemed confused. "I mean, I…I don't want to be a…a burden. You know? Just…um…I just want to feel useful."

"I think we're pretty good right now," Lee said. Of course they were. They didn't want some stranger messing around with their stuff. "If I find anything, I'll let you know."

"Ok…" Clay looked back to Carley and Ben. They were messing around with something at the fence. It peaked Clay's curiosity, aside from just Carley being over there. "Hey, uh…" He said to Lee. "I'm…going to check with Carley for a sec. Is that ok?"

"Sure," Lee said. Clay stood up to leave.

"Bye Clay!" Clementine said he walked over to Carley. Well…Clementine seemed to think he was all right so far. That should be a good thing, right? He peeked behind him to see Lee and Clementine talking to each other. Either they were just talking about something random or Lee was asking Clementine about Clay. He tried to not think about it.

Clay approached Carley and Ben at the fence. Ben was testing some boards that were hastily nailed to support the fence. He had a hammer in one hand and some nails in between his fingers. That fence was still an ugly sight for Clay to look at.

Carley noticed him approaching. "Hey Clay." Ben turned around to notice him too. He seemed a bit more nervous by Clay's presence. He turned back to the board and started hammering a nail.

Clay focused on Carley instead. "Hey. Uh…what are you guys doing?"

"Trying to get some work done on the fence." She replied. "It's a bit tougher than we expected."

"OW!" Ben stopped hammering and shook his hand. His finger looked bruised. "Stupid hammer."

"How are you feeling?" She asked Clay.

"Better…mostly." He replied. "Do…you guys need any help with this?"

"Yes, please!" Ben said. Ben clearly didn't enjoy doing this job.

"You had any experience building fences?" Carley asked Clay.

"Yeah…a little," he replied timidly. He wasn't lying. He hadn't done a lot of work with fences with his construction job. Still, it should be too hard. "How much wood do we have?"

"Not a lot," Carley said as she pointed to a pile off to the side. She wasn't kidding. They were pretty much down to a few remaining planks and some odd pieces here and there.

"Carley!" Katjaa called from across the way. "Could you give me a hand?"

"Ok!" She replied then turned to Clay and Ben. "I'll be back in a bit guys." She went to help Katjaa with whatever it was, leaving Ben and Clay alone to work on the fence.

"Uh…ok," Clay said as both of them looked at the fence. "What tools do we have?"

"I don't know," Ben answered. "I just got here yesterday."

"What?"

"Yeah. They rescued and my teacher from some walkers." Teacher…? Oh. That explains the body he saw yesterday. "So I'm as new as you are."

"….then how come they trust you?"

"Who says they do? I didn't really get a welcoming party either."

"Well then...how come they…?"

"Didn't tie me up? I think finding you hiding in the bathroom was why they didn't trust you."

"Oh…" Clay groaned. Yup…that was a dumb idea. He inspected the rest of the wall. "So who built the rest of the wall?"

"Larry and Mark."

"Who?"

"Lilly's dad and some guy they met from an air force base. I didn't really get to know them before…"

Ben didn't need to finish for Clay to know what he meant. " Yeah, Lee and Carley told me about that."

"Yeah. Lilly hasn't talked to anyone except Lee since it happened."

Clay led him to the pile of wood as they took a moment to think on everything. He wanted to point out some kind of irony that the two new guys were the ones helping to build the wall for these people, but he wasn't sure if that was actually irony or some kind of coincidence.

"So where are you from?"

"Uh…Utah." He said half listening as he tried to think of how to use so little wood to do anything productive with this fence.

"Utah? Uh….where's that?"

Clay rolled his eyes without Ben noticing. Of course! No one knew where Utah, Idaho or Colorado was. "It's right above Nevada."

"Oh. What were you doing out here then?"

"I'm…I was a missionary for my church."

"Which one?"

Clay figured using the full name for his church would not make the answer any clearer. It never did. "I'm a Mormon."

"Oh. Aren't those the guys with the six wives?"

Clay rolled his eyes again. That's what everyone assumed in the South too. "Nope. Just one like everyone else." He pointed to a larger plank at the bottom of the pile. "Can you help me get that?"

The two of them started moving planks off the large one to lift it. "So are you married then?"

Clay shook his head. "No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No…"

The two of them continued in silence as they lifted the large plank to the middle of the fence. They set it down as Clay figured how to arrange it in the best way.

"At least you could probably get a girl better than I could," Ben said.

Clay raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Well, you're not exactly ugly." He pointed out Clay's muscles. "You probably were one of the popular guys at your school. I mean, it won't make much of a difference now, with everything-"

"Can we talk about something else?" Clay interrupted.

"Um….sure….."

Neither of them said anything. Clay wasn't particularly enjoying talking to Ben so far.

"Sorry," Ben apologized.

"It's…it's fine." He looked to the plank and then back to Ben. "Maybe we can start on this tomorrow. It can give us time to plan something good."

"Sure. Yeah, that sounds good." The two of them walked towards the RV. Ben seemed a bit shy about making things uncomfortable. "So how come they send young guys out to be missionaries in your church?"

"Hm?"

"Well, usually when I think about preachers, they're older guys. At least the ones I met. You're not that old, right?"

"No…I'm, uh, twenty-three."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Really? Uh, sorry. I just figured you were younger."

Clay figured that would be as good a compliment to his appearance as he would get from anyone else. "Thanks. You?"

"Eighteen. So, is your family around?"

Clay shook his head. "They're all back in Utah." He said somberly.

"Oh…" Ben was quiet for a bit as they reached the front of the RV. "I'm kind of in the same boat. I think my family's back in my hometown, but there's just no way to know for sure. Too many walkers around."

"Yeah…" Clay probably had it worse because his family was on the other side of the country, but he wouldn't argue semantics right now.

"So…how come they send young guys out?"

Clay thought about for a moment. "Um…I don't know. Some people say it has to do with 'becoming an adult.' Some say it has to do with young people being more…honest or…" He tried to think of something else but nothing came up. "I don't really know honestly."

"Must be scary."

"Yeah…" More awkward silence continued. He figured that was as good a time as any to end the conversation. "Hey uh, I'm still feeling a bit tired from the medicine so…we'll talk more tomorrow. Ok?"

"Uh, right. Sure. Ok."

Clay made his way to his bedroom. He didn't really feel tired. He just…didn't feel like talking anymore. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about how to improve that fence. Now that he had got a closer look at it, he had a better idea how to make it more defensible…

…

Clay waited in his room until people started to retire for the night. He still didn't feel tired at all and he had some extra energy to burn. Maybe he could work quietly enough to not disturb anyone, partly so they could get their sleep and partly so he could work by himself. As much as it would help to have an extra hand like Ben around, Clay figured he could do well enough on his own. Sometimes other people just get in the way.

After waiting a few more minutes, Clay exited his room. He had slipped on his construction gloves and brought a water bottle. He reviewed his plans in his mind. It would require rearranging and removing certain parts of the fence, but doing so would help create better support when he put it back together. Just like anything in life, a strong support can really keep things working.

Clay walked slowly towards the fence. It was really quiet. Almost eerily. He tried to focus on the plan. Hopefully he could find the tools and enough nails to work with. So few supplies didn't leave room for error. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he-

"And what exactly are you doing?"

He froze in place. That was a voice he had quickly learned to be intimidated by. He turned to his right to see Lilly sitting on top of the RV with a rifle in hand. He could feel his limbs shaking.

She hopped off the RV and approached him. Clay was getting more nervous now. "I asked you a question. What are you doing?"

"Uh…I…I was….I mean, I was trying…to…uh…" Clay was having a hard time focusing with that stare she was giving. He still pictured her covered with blood on her face like some kind of war paint.

She continued to glare at him menacingly. He looked back to his room. Maybe now was not such a good time. "S-sorry…maybe I…I'll just get out of your…I mean…uh…goodnight." He started for his room…

…until she grabbed onto his shirt collar. "Wait!" He froze in panic. He prayed that she wouldn't hurt him again. He didn't mean to cause any trouble.

Lilly sighed deeply. "I'm…sorry about yesterday."

Well…that was different than what she expected. Was this a test though? Maybe she was trying to see how he would respond.

"You just going to let that apology hang?" She said.

"Uh…no! No. I…I'm sorry I scared you….I mean, that I was hiding and didn't know…you were all around." Clay would happily wait another day to work if he could just get away. And yet…something didn't feel right. Not exactly in a threatening way, but he could feel…a lot of sorrow. Her grip was too tight to just be anger towards him.

"So why are you out here?" She asked again.

Clay figured it was best not to lie to her. "I-I wanted to help fix the fence."

"It's not broken."

"No. I-I mean…not 'fix' like broken or bad. I'm sure it's a good fence. I just…wanted to help make it better…I guess."

"What makes you qualified?"

"I…did construction back home."

Lilly let go of his shirt collar. He could feel her gaze still on him. "I'm sure everyone told you, didn't they?"

Well this was going in a strange direction. 'Told you' could imply a lot, but not when he had no immediate lead to what she was talking about. He shook his head. "I-I don't know. Told me what?"

A beat of tense silence lingered. "They probably would," she said. "That's why you want to leave. They're all just a bunch of fickle little shitheads." Clay didn't really know what was happening so he did nothing. "They want me to help them do everything. Be responsible for everything. Make all the hard decisions for everything. When I ask them to do something important for me though…"

He heard…a sniffle. Clay turned back to her. She still had that hard look to her, but he could see her fighting back something. She looked back at him as she wiped a tear. "Lee said you're a missionary. Is that true?"

Clay nodded.

"You believe there's something else out there? That even with this shit going on, there's a God watching us and a heaven for people who die?"  
Clay wasn't sure if this was a genuine question or an opening to criticize him for believing so. He nodded regardless.

"At least someone does," she said solemnly. She sat on a chair laid out in the open area and teared up.

Clay didn't know what to do. He was close enough to his room that he could leave her to her thoughts, but it didn't feel right to leave even if it wasn't his preferred choice. After a few seconds of hesitation, he knelt down on the ground beside her. He then remembered that her dad died. Everyone told him that, so that was probably what she meant.

"I'm…I'm sorry. Really, I am," he said.

"So is everyone," she replied. "Except for that asshat Kenny." Clay wasn't quite sure what made him different on the situation. She noticed his concern. "So they really didn't tell you?"

Now he was confused again. "No one's really told me anything," he answered honestly.

"And Kenny hasn't talked to you yet, has he?"

"…no." He had only heard Kenny talk to other people, but not had a chance to speak to him in person.

She gave her full attention to Clay. "Listen to me carefully," she said with a hushed but angered determination. "Whatever Kenny tells you, don't you listen to a damn word! He'll tell you how he wants to be your friend. He'll talk about wanting to protect everyone. He'll charm you with being a simple person with simple needs." She narrowed her gaze. "He's a damn liar."

Clay doubted if staying out here was a good idea, but he had no choice. She continued. "Kenny doesn't give a rat's ass if you live or die. As long as he keeps himself and his family safe, he'll step on anyone's toes in the way. He's just using Lee and everyone else to get what he wants."

Clay was getting a bit concerned now. "You don't really-"

"I do!" She interrupted. "I do believe that. Because I know it's true." Her tears were getting stronger. "I saw what kind of asshole he really is. I saw what he was willing to do when an opportunity came to protect himself. And only Lee was good enough to raise a voice against him before he…"

Clay waited as she collected herself. She was letting everything spill out onto him right now. Lilly continued, "…before Kenny killed my dad."

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. So…that's what they would have told him. He thought back on everything he heard today and realized how everything fit together with that little reveal. Was Lilly right then? Was Kenny really that much of a jerk? Still, why did he kill her dad? And why wasn't Lee totally on Lilly's side on the whole thing? He knew he didn't have all the answers.

Lilly wiped away a few tears as she stood up. "Well…now you know."

Clay rubbed the back of his arm nervously as he also stood. "If…if Kenny really did that…why are you staying?" He wasn't trying to plant any ideas in her head, but he had to ask.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Because of Lee. And Clementine. And Duck. And the people here who still matter." She turned to him. "Lee still wants everyone to get along, so he's willing to defend Kenny while sympathizing with me. If he wants to keep that dickhead around, then so be it. I'm not letting Kenny hurt anyone else. I'm still running things here, whether he likes it or not. Someone has to keep things together."

Clay had to admit that her reasoning was sound. He only had her side to base it off of, but she at least made her case. Still, he didn't like it when people disagreed or argued. Things were hard enough as they were. The last thing they needed was a reason to turn on each other. So in a way, he agreed with Lee's thinking. Still, ignoring Lilly wasn't going to help anything.

"If...if I can do anything to help…" He stumbled with his words. "…I'd be happy to."

Lilly crossed her arms. "Oh?"

Clay wasn't quite sure what she expected him to say after that. "Um…y-yeah. I mean…I did kind of come in uninvited. Least I could do is help…maybe. It's not fun having to do everything."

She just stared at him curiously. "Think you can handle a crazy woman with a grudge and a dead dad telling you what to do?"

"I don't think you're crazy," he replied.

"Really?"

"…yeah."

She moved closer to him…and then hugged him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his body tensed. On top of the 'no hugging' policy missionaries were supposed to abide by, he was still getting over being completely terrified of her. He had to admit though. He missed being able to hug people. And her hug was one of trust, so he just had to imagine it was like any other missionary.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

He reached up and returned the hug gently. "My pleasure," he said trying to not sound nervous.

She released the hug and looked over to the fence. "So, you need a hand with the fence?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Things are looking pretty quiet at the moment, so I can lend a hand if you want to work on it."

Clay had hoped to work on it by himself, but this was probably not the right time to turn down help. "…sure." He led her over to the plank he had set down with Ben.

"You got any plans with that construction experience of yours?" She asked.

"Yeah. A few…"

He tried to think positive on the situation. Maybe he could be a friend to Lilly. He knew how it felt to have no one around when you needed them most. Heaven knows how much his mom helped him back home. He just needed to be the nice guy and help out a bit. Shouldn't be too hard, right...?

...

**And...scene! So things are a bit better for Clay at the moment. See boys and girls. Sometimes being a nice guy can help. ****This is The Walking Dead though. We can only wonder how long any character's good luck can last.**..

**Look for another chapter to come out soon. Another huge thanks to all of you readers and keep up the comments. Anything seem like it could be improved or feels out of place? Let me know.**


	4. From All Sides

**Soooo…..it's been a busy last few weeks. My sister graduated, I've been job hunting, etc. I had still hoped to get this chapter out sooner, but there were a few kinks and plot points I had to iron out. Part of it involved truncating the end of the chapter, but that will be reworked into the next chapter. It probably will be for the better.**

**Before I start though, I want to give a shout out to a fellow author Jerus. I found out that he was one of the authors I worked with the most on the RP Clay came from. Not only has he been instrumental in shaping Clay's journey but many other great stories of his own. I was also able to get his permission to use some of his characters from the RP, including one who will be introduced in this chapter. So again, major props and thanks to Jerus.**

**So without further ado, it's on with the show. When we last left Clay, he was getting acquainted with our beloved group of misfits from the game. Everything seems pretty calm for the moment. We'll have to change that!**

THREE DAYS LATER…

The morning sun shone in the distance as Clay cautiously strolled down the road. He wasn't exactly a morning person, but he figured it was better to get this done now. It's not like he had the busiest schedule to maintain. He just preferred to get little things out of the way early on. He did the same back at Uncle Hyrum's construction sites to lighten his workload those days.

He definitely wouldn't try this at night. That was when the 'walkers,' as everyone else called them, were most vigilant. At least they were easier to spot when it was light outside. Not like he could really hurt them though.

Thankfully, that's what Carley was there for. She walked beside Clay with her pistol in her hand as she kept her eyes peeled. They've worked together for a few other chores over the last couple days, so Clay knew he could trust her. He hadn't seen her in action yet, but everyone told him what a crack shot she was.

He didn't doubt it. Anyone would look like a crack shot compared to him. He was grateful Carley hadn't asked him about his shooting skills. He remembered the last time he went to a gun range with Uncle Hyrum and his sons. He didn't hit a single clay pigeon all day!

After a bit more walking, Clay pointed out their destination. On the side of the road was a group of abandoned cars amongst the debris. One of them had crashed into a tree and the others were just sitting there wasting away with whatever contents were inside. He remembered spotting them when he rode up to the motor inn and figured they might still have some gas. Lilly said they would need some for emergencies and Kenny would probably ask for some once he fixed the RV. Once Clay saw they had the proper tubing and gas cans needed for siphoning, he volunteered to find some.

He knew that didn't surprise them. Since he got over his cold, Clay had been busy helping out around the motor inn wherever he could. The fence was his primary project, but he used any chance he could to assist with whatever. He just wanted to feel useful, especially after the mishap from his first few days there. He had hoped doing so would also build some trust in case anyone had any lingering issues. Once Lilly was chill with him though, everyone else more or less followed suit.

Well…except for Kenny and Katjaa. Clay had offered to help them on a couple of occasions, but they seemed hesitant to have him around or talk to him. He couldn't figure out why. Maybe they were more cautious with trusting new people, which would make sense given what Clay learned about the group. It could also be that, aside from Lee, Clay was the only person Lilly trusted to talk to. Knowing THAT certain part about Lilly and Kenny's history, that could be an equally valid reason.

He focused back on the cars while Carley inspected the area for walkers. Those things could be hiding anywhere, so one could never be too careful. She swept the area, checking under the cars, near the trees and inside the cars as well. Once she gave him the all clear, Clay set down the gas cans and tubing.

"Sure this will work?" Carley asked as she double-checked the area.

"Hope so," he replied. "Should be like any other car…hopefully."

"Well, you'd probably know better than me."

"Not likely," he admitted as he opened the cover of the nearest car's gas valve, unscrewed the cap on a can and started pushing the tube into the tank.

"So where did you learn how to do this?" She asked him as she sat on the hood.

"Um…f-from some guys at the construction yards." He said. He neglected to mention it was part of some weird hazing prank they did so he'd suck on gasoline. He didn't hang out with them much after that, but he did remember how to do it.

The tube reached the bottom of the tank and he blew into it. There was the faint sound of bubbles inside, but not enough to be worth the effort. He pulled out the tube as he looked over to Carley. He had been getting to know her a bit better since the first few days and thankfully she was pretty open to talk to. "So…uh, what brought you to Macon…you know, before all of this?"

"We were covering the International Cherry Blossom Festival for WABE."

Clay made his way to another car. "Cherry blossoms?"

"I know," she said sarcastically as she followed him. "Hard hitting journalism at its finest."

He tried to lift the gas valve cover off, but it was latched on. He looked to Carley and pointed to the front seat. "Hey, uh, can you see if there's a switch to open the gas tank?"

Carley walked to the front seat and checked around. As she searched, Clay realized he was staring at her for a while. He couldn't help it. Even with everything going on, she still looked as beautiful as the first day he saw her. She was really cool too. Even with all the stuff she filled him in on with the group, she seemed like a genuinely nice person who just…

She looked back at him. He quickly averted her gaze. Crap! Did she see him staring? He should have been a bit stealthier.

"What does it look like?" She asked.

"Uh…um…it should have a gas pump picture…or something." He stumbled nervously as he pretended to look busy. Did she notice? Hopefully not. Or maybe it should be hopefully. He didn't know how this worked!

He heard a thump and saw the hood pop open. "Uh...no, not that one. Check by the bottom of the—"

The cover for the gas valve then popped open. Well, she found that quickly.

Carley closed the front door. "Sorry," she apologized with a smile. "I'm not a car expert."

"No, it's…it's fine. Me neither. Thanks," he said nervously as he unscrewed the cap and pushed the tube into the tank. Did he react too judgmentally when she did the wrong thing? It was an easy mistake. He might have done that too. He should try to say something nice. "So, uh, cherry blossoms, right? That's…that's pretty cool."

"Is it?" She said half listening.

"Uh….um, yeah." He had to think of something better to add to that. "My, uh, my cousin visited the cherry blossoms in Tokyo when he was a missionary. I've never seen them before, but I, uh, I'm sure they look nice."

"Yeah. They're very pretty…"

Great….Clay was sure he was making this awkward. He was, right? She sounded distracted, but was it because of him? As the tubing hit the bottom of the tank, he looked back over to Carley. She just leaned against the car with a thousand mile stare into some place nearby. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary there. Still, she seemed worried. Like she was lost in thought. He figured it would be rude to pry, so he resumed his work. He blew into the tank and heard a lot of deep bubbles inside. Good! That could probably fill the can.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Clay looked back up as she snapped out of whatever thought she was in the middle of. He wasn't quite sure which part of the conversation she tuned out of, so it was hard to know where to resume. "Um…I didn't say anything…"

"Oh…ok." She crossed her arms and continued looking out in the distance.

Clay's concern got the better of him. He knew that he did the same when something was on his mind or at least something similar. He quickly sucked into the tank, covering the end with his finger for a moment so no gas would go in his mouth, and put the end into the gas can. As the gas drained, he walked over and leaned onto the car next to her.

"You…um, you ok?" He asked nervously. He didn't know if this would be something she didn't want to talk about, but he figured he should ask since he made the effort.

"…sort of," she replied with some sorrow. "I've just been thinking about some people."

He put his hands in his pockets. "Family? Friends?"

"Both." She sighed. "I haven't thought about them for a while, but sometimes everything just…comes back at you."

"Yeah…" He was still curious about who she was thinking about. Her parents? Co-workers? ….boyfriend?

"Sometimes I look out here and it feels like no one else made it. That it's just you, me and everyone else in the motor inn." Carley turned to him. "Not that you're bad to be around."

Clay smiled, but he knew that this was serious. "Were you thinking about anyone in particular?"

She nodded. "There was this guy we met a while back named Doug. A bunch of walkers trapped us all in a drug store and were about to break in. We tried to hold them back, but my gun ran dry and I couldn't reach my purse for a new clip. Some walkers grabbed Doug and me. I…I was pretty sure I was going to die. Then Lee saved me." She paused. " But the walkers got Doug before we could reach him."

She looked into the rearview mirror. "Sometimes…sometimes I wonder what could have happened if I wasn't grabbed. Or if I had an extra bullet or two. I mean, I barely knew him, but that's no way for anyone to go."

The two of them were silent as the gas continued to drain. Clay didn't really know what to say. Glad Lee saved you first? I'm sorry? That's horrible? There wasn't really a right response.

"Do you ever think back on those moments?" She continued. "Like, if you could go back and change some mistake, maybe things would have turned out different."

Clay took a moment to think of an answer. He could have just said 'yes,' but that wasn't exactly the right answer. It would have been his first answer, but not the right one. He did have a list of examples he could give for that if he did say yes though. He tried to think of how Elder Smith would have handled this.

"There's….there's always something I could change. Some little mistake…some big mistakes…." He wasn't exactly sure how to continue, so he gave it his best shot. "…but…I mean, we can't. It's…uh, it's not like we'll find a time travelling Delorean anytime soon." She gave an amused smile. That was a start. He should say something else. "You're…you're a strong person. Probably stronger than me from everything you told me about. And, well, you've still kept those people close to your heart through thick and thin. So…" He was probably rambling, but he couldn't stop now. "…in a way, as long as you remember the good things about them, it's like they are still there. Their memory is alive as long as you are, so…you just have to keep living.."

She paused to take in what he said before speaking. "What are we living for though? I mean, not to sound cynical…"

"No, I know." He kicked the dirt on the ground gently as he thought of something. "Well…I could give the 'churchy' answer, but…" He struggled…it was hard not to just give the churchy answer. "Well, there has to be something good to look forward to."

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe there's a…a cure out there. Maybe there's some kind of bunker with forty years of supplies. Maybe…maybe the military has cleared out a city for people to live in. After everything you guys went through, there's got to be some good karma in store."

"You think so?"

He'd like to say yes, but he didn't know any better than her. So he shrugged and gave the best answer he could. "We have to have faith in something, right?"

"….yeah. I guess so." She sounded a bit more relaxed. Clay smiled weakly as he thought over his words. He hoped he said something good. Heaven knows he wanted to believe what he just said. Faith was pretty much all they had to cling on to these days.

Carley gave him a friendly nudge to stir him from his thoughts. "So what was that you said about you not being strong?"

Clay smiled. Funny how she would remember that part of his little speech. "It's just a fact. I mean, I don't think I could handle a family of cannibals like you all did."

"Well, you've been able to handle a bunch of undead cannibals so far. You wouldn't have lasted this long otherwise"

"Yeah…" Clay sighed. Would she think differently about him if she knew he had never killed a walker before? At most, he has knocked a few over to get past them. He had mostly survived by avoiding them or having the people from his previous group deal with them.

"Hey, sorry about unloading all of that on you." Carley apologized. "Guess I'm just having one of those mornings."

"No, it's ok." He replied. "We all have those. It sounds like Doug was a nice guy."

"Yeah. He was a real sweetheart." She smiled. "You kind of remind me of him."

Clay raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. You're a nice guy. You listen to people. You're cute. You're helpful. You're pretty smart."

"Well, arguably," he joked timidly. "My hiding skills are questionable."

She chuckled. He smiled. So he could make her laugh. That was a nice to know. Not much to laugh at lately.

"Well regardless, you have a lot of good qualities. I'm sure we're better off having you around. You might just save a few lives."

Clay felt a bit happy from that. She was probably giving him too much praise, but he….wait, did she say he was cute? Like there was some kind of mutual feeling? Weird that he didn't pick up on that when she said it earlier. He was about to say something, but he heard the last bit of the gas drain into the can. It was probably for the best. He'd just say something stupid.

He inspected the can to find it was surprisingly full. He screwed the cap back on, gathered everything up and showed the full can to Carley. "I think we'll get a good haul today," he said with contained contentment.

"Sweet!" She said.

Clay moved to the next car with Carley close behind. "I'll just check these last few then we can go." He set the cans down and knelt down to start the process again.

Before he did though, Carley knelt down beside him smiling, "Hey, Clay."

"Yeah, wh-?"

Before he could finish his thought, she gave a quick peck on the cheek. The hairs on his arms and back of his neck bristled.

"Thanks for the pep talk," she said before moving to the front of the car to keep watch.

Clay couldn't move a muscle. His cheeks felt incredibly warm from blushing. His thoughts were at a standstill as he processed what happened. It was…really good.

After a few more stunned seconds, Clay pulled himself back to his task. He worked mechanically as he recalled those last few moments in his mind over and over again. His heart was light and fluffy thinking about it. Maybe he should say comforting things more often…

...

Clay followed Carley back to the motor inn with two full cans of gas in his hands. Everything seemed pretty much like normal, or as normal as things had been. The building was still in one piece and there were no walkers in sight. Of course, he couldn't help but focus his attention on admiring his handiwork. His work had been paying off for making the fence more durable. Uncle Hyrum would have been proud! They approached the dumpsters blocking the way and Clay set the gas cans down to move one when they heard something.

"You know I'm right Lilly!" Kenny shouted from inside.

Clay stopped. Carley and him looked to each other confused as they listened.

"I know that if we leave this place for some hair-brained plan, everyone is going to die!" Lilly shouted back.

"And what? Trapping them like sardines is going to be any better? We need a plan Lilly!"

"WE have a plan!"

"What? You, Lee and your little boy toy trapping us with your prison walls? We have to think seriously here! I'm not letting my son rot in some damn roach motel!" Boy toy? Clay was a bit surprised at Kenny's description of him. He wasn't even sure what that meant, but it didn't sound nice.

"Right! Because hauling him around walker infested areas is such a better idea! Tell you what! Come back to me once you've pulled your head out of your ass and thought of seomthing that isn't suicidal! Then we'll 'talk seriously'!" And with that, Lilly stormed off and slammed the door to her room.

"Well, Lilly's awake." Carley said aside. Clay nodded as they pushed a dumpster back to enter.

Everything seemed pretty hunky dory so far. Ben was rooting through the wood pile by the fence. Lee was hanging with Clementine and Duck by the RV. Kenny was having a chat with Katjaa about something. Just a morning like any other.

"I'm going to check in with Lee," Carley said. "Maybe you should see how Lilly's doing."

"Yeah…she usually needs a minute to cool off. I'll set these down and see if there's anything else to do," Clay said. Even with Lilly being cool about Clay, she was still hot tempered. It must just be how she was raised. Clay already learned yesterday to not talk to her until she was ready.

"Probably a good idea. You know where to find me if you need anything." She said as she went to talk to Lee. Clay watched her as she left before realizing he was staring again. He should probably do something more productive right now.

Clay set the gas cans down nearby the RV and went to check on Ben. The first day or two working with him were rough, but they had established a better connection since then. Ben just needed a clear idea what he was supposed to do to be productive. And right now he was…well, actually Clay couldn't tell what he was doing.

"Hey Ben," Clay said as he pointed to where Ben was working. "What's up?"

"Just patching up a few areas here and there." He moved out of the way and nodded to the area he worked on. "Check it out."

"Hm…" Clay said as he moved to the spot. It looked like Ben was adding some additional wood to the base of the supports Clay built. A good idea in theory, but Clay had to make sure. He grabbed the support and shook it lightly. Seemed pretty good. He then kicked lightly at the base to see how it withstood. A bit loose on one corner, but just fine other than that. "Looks pretty fine. Just use one more nail there," he said pointing at the loose corner, "and that should be all we need for now."

"Good. I don't know how you can stand working on this all day." Ben picked up a hammer and knelt by the corner.

"Lots of water and patience," Clay joked. He sounded like that one foreman from his first construction job. That guy was a joker too, but he made sure everyone did their job.

"Hey Clay!"

Clay turned to see Kenny waving over to him. The RV's hood was popped open and Kenny had grease on his hands. "Can you give me a hand here?"

Weird….Kenny never asked Clay for help. Perhaps this could be a chance to get along better with him. Despite whatever Lilly told Clay, he should at least try to play nice.

Clay turned to Ben. "Uh…yeah. Just finish up and…I don't know. You're free to do whatever."

"Whatever you say, Mr. McKinley," Ben responded sarcastically as Clay left. It didn't seem like everyone else was too busy to help, but perhaps Kenny figured Clay was the only person who could work on cars. That was highly doubtful. Still, Clay rolled with it anyway.

Kenny turned to Clay as he worked part of the engine with a wrench. "Ah, there you are. How good are you with engines?"

Clay examined the engine. He really didn't know a whole lot, but he could figure the basics on a couple things. "Um…I'm ok."

"Good enough," Kenny said as he pointed to the opposite side of the engine. "I'm trying to see if everything's all wired up properly. I could use a second pair of eyes."

Examine the engine? Strange request, but ok. Clay checked out the wiring as Kenny tightened a few more nuts. The engine had seen better days for sure. There was a bit of rust on the corners and it was clear Kenny had been busy replacing parts from whatever they came across. A few bits were on their last legs too. Still, if they needed to drive the RV, it could last a decent distance. They just needed enough fuel.

A few more minutes went by with them just doing the same thing. Clay wasn't exactly sure what Kenny expected him to find. Nothing appeared noticeable enough for his attention.

"So you guys get enough fuel out there?" Kenny then asked.

"Hm…" Clay said as he continued to check for…whatever in the engine. "Uh, yeah, we got some. Filled the cans at least."

"Good. We'll need it for when we get this thing running." Kenny said as he set the wrench down in a toolbox nearby. "Might take us a while to travel to the coast."

"The coast?" Clay said confused.

"Yeah. I mean you're seriously not expecting to stay here forever, right?" He furrowed his brow inquisitively. "Or are you on Lilly's side too?"

Oh…..so that's why Kenny wanted to talk to him. It was one of those power struggle things Lilly complained about. This didn't have to be a shouting problem though. Clay decided to go the calm route. "Why the coast?"

"Because putting several miles of ocean between us and the walkers sounds like a good idea. Maybe we can find a place up north they haven't taken over." He said matter of fact as he unscrewed a cap on an engine part.

Ocean? Well, no one knew if walkers could swim, so there was a possibility Kenny was right. Still, if what Lilly said during that argument earlier was right, they'd be driving through large hordes of walkers to get there.

"How would we get there?" Clay inquired.

"There's cities like Savannah that have harbors we can snag a boat from. I worked in commercial fishing, so as long as they are in decent shape then we're pretty golden."

Clay's focus drifted away from the engine as he pondered over that. "I…I don't know…"

"Does sitting around waiting for a miracle happens sound like a better idea?" Kenny probed. "I'm sure good Christians like you and I know faith is about action. So what good's going to come from holing up?"

Great. He was trying to use the 'buddy Christian' angle. Hardly anyone in the South did that with Mormons though. Except for the ones who didn't know Mormons existed, most everyone else thought they were devil worshippers.

Kenny stood up, wiped some sweat off his brow and cleaned his hands with a towel. "Sooner or later, we're going to have to leave. I know Lilly has you turning this place into Fort Knox, but what happens when there's no more food to salvage? Macon's picked clean and it'd be too far a travel to loot another town that may have nothing left. Sturdy walls are worth shit if we starve."

Clay hadn't considered that…still, Lilly points were valid. "But…" He stammered a little. "The coast is…is really far away. There's lots of-"

"I'm aware," Kenny interrupted. "You don't think I'd consider my son's safety before I did something like this? Don't need you AND Lilly harassing me about that."

Clay was silent. Kenny seemed pretty confident. It was a bit intimidating.

Kenny sighed. "Sorry," Kenny apologized as he closed the RV's hood. "Look. You and Lee are the only ones who can talk with Lilly without her blowing a casket. I've already had a chat with Lee and I'm pretty sure we're in agreement."

Really? Lee hadn't mentioned anything about that to him. Was that something they discussed while he was away?

"Whatever spat I may have with Lilly, I'm not planning on ditching her. Don't need anyone else tip toeing around me like I'm some bad guy. She isn't going to listen to me though." Kenny looked Clay sternly in the eyes. "You're a sharp boy. You know I'm right. So I need you and Lee to help Lilly see that."

Clay looked away nervously. So Kenny wanted to enlist him to persuade Lilly? Something didn't feel right about this. "I-"

"Clay," Kenny said to get Clay's attention. "The longer we stay here, the worse it's going to get." He nodded over to Clementine and Duck playing a game with Carley as Lee left. "The kids nearly starved to death with all of us a few days ago. We got lucky finding some food, but it won't last long. I'm not letting that happen again. You understand?"

Clay felt butterflies in his stomach. Clementine and Duck seemed pretty happy at the moment. He didn't blame Kenny for that motivation. Still, who could say their luck couldn't last if they stayed? They could find more food. Clay would search overtime if he had to. There to be something more around…right? He still didn't want to give an answer either way.

Kenny gave a pat on Clay's shoulder. "Think about it. You'll know what to do." He then walked off to join in with Carley and the kids.

Clay pondered over Kenny's words. This is exactly why he didn't enjoy people not getting along. It caused all sorts of problems and conflicts, especially when both parties had valid points to make. And here he was stuck in the middle of it. Why does trying to be the nice guy have to be so complicated?

Maybe talking to Lilly would ease his concerns. She'd probably just argue the opposite of what Kenny said, but he found talking to her a bit more…something. Calming wasn't exactly the right word, but it was something positive.

He opened the door to her room slightly…only to see Lee already talking to her. They both stopped when they saw him.

"Oh…um…sorry," He apologized. "I didn't-"

"No it's fine," Lee said. "Come in."

Clay sighed relieved as he entered and quickly closed the door behind him. Lilly sat on her bed like usual and Lee sat on one of the chairs by the window. Clay sat in the vacant seat next to Lee.

"Uh…we, um, got some more gas," Clay said in an attempt to not drastically detract from whatever they were talking about.

"Good," Lilly replied. "That'll help whenever we find a decent generator to work with."

"Yeah…we're still working on that part," Clay added hesitantly. He didn't have the first clue where to find one that hadn't already been snagged.

"You alright?" Lee said concerned to him.

Clay still wasn't terribly good at hiding his thoughts. "Uh…yeah, just…peachy." Using an old fashioned word probably didn't help, since they still looked concerned. He tried to cover things up. "I mean…I don't know. I've just been thinking about…I mean, the walls should be good against the walkers but...Not that we have anything to test against it. If they came in a big group-"

"You and Ben have been doing fine," Lilly said with a faint smile. "I don't think we'll have anything to worry about."

"I hope so," Clay sighed. Well, he still felt a bit shaky with the whole Kenny thing, but maybe that vaguely true concern satisfied them enough. He decided not to bring it up anyway. "So, uh, what's up?"

"Just venting," Lilly said with a groan. "Kenny wants everyone to leave the motor inn."

Shoot! Guess there was no escaping the elephant in the room.

"W-why?" He said trying to play ignorant.

"Some half-baked plan about finding a boat at the coast," she said. "He's willing to risk everything we've worked for on a pipe dream. He thinks he can just boss everyone around but doesn't have the balls to actually do anything."

"It's a hard position to be in, Lilly," Lee said. "He's got a wife and kid to look after."

"That's no excuse to go chasing after a fantasy. Or are you on his side?" She said with an accusing stare.

"I'm not here to pick sides, Lilly." Lee defended himself with his own stern stare. "I'll do whatever it takes to help the kids, but don't pit this as a 'you or me' situation. Whatever comes out of the situation, we'll go with it. Just like we always have."

Lilly pouted a little then looked to Clay. "What do you think?" The look she gave read more like 'You better agree with me.'

Clay froze. He had hoped she wouldn't ask him about that. He looked over to Lee, who didn't offer any support for yes or no. He fumbled an answer in his mind.

"I…um, well…uh…I mean…um, what—"

"Forget it!" Lilly snapped. "You're just as damn indecisive as everyone else! We'd still be in that damn drug store if it wasn't for me."

Clay frowned and awkwardly averted Lilly's gaze. That didn't go so well. He never did well under pressure. She probably hated him now.

"Lilly…" Lee said concerned.

"Don't try to coddle me, Lee." She said back.

"I'm not. And none of us can easily make a decision like this. We need to think this over, maybe put it to a vote if we need to."

"You really think that slack jawed redneck is going to back down on this?"

"I think he will do whatever keeps his family safe."

"Yeah, like killing a defenseless old man having a heart attack…"

Clay knew that would always be the lingering detail for anything involving Lilly and Kenny. Neither one would back down on that problem, so it would be unlikely they would agree on much else.

Lilly closed her eyes. "Just let me be alone for a while."

Lee sighed and stood up. "Alright." He moved to the door and opened it, but stopped to turn to her. "We're trying to help, Lilly."

"I know…" She said a bit downtrodden.

"Then let us," he said as he left.

Clay sat there awkwardly as Lilly continued to look away. That was probably his cue to leave too. He stood up to go to the door.

"Clay…" Lilly said quietly. Clay waited nervously for what she had to say. "I'm sorry I snapped at you." She rested her head in her hands and groaned. She then patted on the spot next to her for him to sit. So…she didn't want to be alone? After a moment hesitation, he sat at the spot, giving her a little room just in case.

"You ok?" He asked knowing it was a rhetorical question.

"No, I'm doing this for the hell of it," she answered sarcastically through her hands. She then lowered them and looked at Clay. "You agree with me, right?"

"Hm?"

"That the coast is a pipe dream."

Clay tried to think of his response carefully. As much as Kenny intimidated him, he wasn't completely wrong. And Lee wasn't willing to commit one way or the other. Still, he knew Lilly better than he knew Kenny so it would be bad to bet against her.

"I don't know…" He said. "…but we've been doing fine so far, right?"

"Thanks for not answering," she said annoyed.

He sighed. Ok, that wouldn't work. "I'm…I'm not planning on going anywhere if that's what you want to hear."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

Lilly shifted over to him and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

"Glad I can trust you," she said exasperated.

Half a minute of silence followed this. Long…uncomfortable silence. As nice as she was being and as nice as her leaning on him felt, Clay didn't quite feel at ease. She felt tense, both in body language and demeanor. He didn't dare move from where he was though. He just let her rest there. He could practically hear her working out some thought in her head she wanted to get out.

"I hate feeling like this," Lilly said tensely to break the silence.

Clay raised a brow. "Hm?"

"You heard me."

He had to stop unconsciously saying that. He shook his head and continued. "W-what do you hate feeling?"

She exhaled slowly. "Like everyday is just another struggle. Like at any moment I could break. Like…like I could have saved him." She lifted her head and turned to him. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah…I do." He had heard more about that unhappy mess than he needed to know. He knew what it was like to miss a loved one though. He had barely talked to Carley about that this morning.

"I feel like I'm slipping," Lilly continued. "We barely survived three people trying to kill us. These people need me at my best. How can I do anything if I'm a damn mess?"

Clay could feel all that weight she was carrying. It's no fun being in charge. Even Uncle Hyrum had foreman to maintain….wait, that was an idea. "It…it doesn't have to be all you."

Lilly laughed sarcastically under her breath "Who else could handle this group? You're not going to say Kenny, are you?"

Not unless he wanted her to smack him, he thought. Clay pondered his response carefully. This probably wasn't what Lilly wanted to hear, but if she really worried about this then she should know it's an option. "Well…what about Lee?" He asked.

"Lee?" She sounded a bit surprised, but nothing too extreme.

"Y-yeah. Um…I mean, not that you can't be a leader, but Lee could help with the load…if you need him." Clay knew he sounded nervous, but he had to say it.

Lilly breathed slowly as she thought it over. Clay's eyes drifted towards the window as he waited. This didn't seem to be an easy thing for her to consider. Then again, why wouldn't it be? As far as Clay was concerned, Lee was the most level headed of the group. He would be the best person to consider for their safety.

Lilly still didn't answer, so Clay decided to support his case. "You know he…he wants everyone to stay safe. He's been doing his best to handle things with you and Kenny. He knows how to deal with kids. He even put aside his feelings towards your dad when…" He stopped and decided to tread lightly on the touchy subject. "…when you needed him most."

Lilly closed her eyes and put her hands on her lap. "He's…he's a really great guy. It's just…" Clay waited for her to complete the thought. She opened her eyes again. "There are some things you don't know about him."

Clay was curious now. He hadn't seen anything suspicious about Lee since he's been here, so he wasn't quite sure what she meant. "Like what?" He asked skeptically.

She shook her head. "Not my place. If he wants to tell you, he will."

Cryptic…ok, so Clay learned something new everyday. Why couldn't people just be straightforward with their problems when…..On second thought, he mentally recanted that statement. He decided to change the topic….

…until he noticed everyone outside sharply turn towards the forest and some birds quickly fly out from the tree line. Lilly saw it too. The fact all of this happened simultaneously made it so strange.

"What the hell?" Lilly said curiously as she made her way to the door. Clay followed right behind. As they entered the main area, Clay, Carley and Clementine turned to them. "What's going on?" Lilly asked sternly.

"There was a scream out in the forest," Lee said pointing out to the trees. "It sounded like a girl."

"We should help," Clementine said worried.

"Too risky," Kenny said from over by the RV.

"What?" Carley snapped at him. Clay was also a bit surprised by that.

"Carley, think about it." Kenny replied. "Last time we tried to help out someone, the son of a bitch turned and almost killed Katjaa."

"That's my teacher you're talking about!" Ben said as he approached the group. Clay turned to Lilly to see if she would speak out against what Kenny was saying….but she didn't. She didn't even look like she disapproved of his idea!

"I didn't forget, jackass!" Kenny said with a stern glare. "You're just lucky you weren't bit too!"

"Kenny!" Lee said with intent to reason.

"Ken's right Lee," Katjaa joined in. "We don't know who it is. It could be another St. John."

"Thank you, hon." Kenny said with grateful exasperation to her before turning to Lee again. "Yet another reason we shouldn't just rush out. It could be a trap."

"And what if it isn't?" Lee snapped back and nodded to Clay. "Clay wasn't a St. John or a bandit."

"Well we don't know, Lee. And Clay found us. You're talking about going out in the open for some stranger. We can't just-"

A loud, high-pitched scream echoed from in the forest. Whoever it was, they were deep in there. Clay couldn't imagine not helping though. He knew what it was like to be alone and surrounded by walkers. And that scream…it brought up the thought of his sister for some reason. If he could speak up…

"Carley!" Lee shouted.

Clay and the group turned to see Carley rush out to the dumpsters with her pistol at the ready.

"What are you doing?!" Lilly barked at her.

She started pushing against one of the dumpsters. "Whoever that girl is, she needs our help!"

"That scream's going to bring the walkers!" Kenny argued. "She'll be scraps before you get to her!"

"All the more reason to hurry!" Carley snapped back as she finished pushing the dumpster.

Clay's thoughts rushed within all of a split second. Carley was going to go out there all on her own? Kenny might be right. If Carley just ran out by herself, she might not come back. What should he do? He looked back to the group, but no one seemed to be doing much anything. Why couldn't someone just tell him what to do in this situation? He groaned and made his decision.

"W…wait for me!" He shouted as he rushed over to Carley.

"Clay!" Lilly shouted worried.

As he ran, he heard some more footsteps following him. He turned to see Lee following right behind carrying a rifle. He wasn't surprised. Lee wasn't the type to turn down helping other people. Heck, maybe Lee felt Clay couldn't show him up in this. The two of them pushed the dumpster back into place as they exited and Carley loaded a fresh clip into her pistol.

"Are you all crazy?" Kenny shouted as Lilly and him rushed to the dumpsters.

"We'll be back before you know it," Lee said as he loaded a round into the rifle chamber. "Stay here and keep an eye out for anything or anyone."

"Lee…" Clementine said worried.

"We'll be fine, Clem. Lee's lucky, remember?" Carley said with reassurance. And with that, Lee and her ran off into the trees.

Clay took one extra second to see everyone left gathered in the motor inn. This was absolutely ridiculous what they were doing. Still, he doubted anyone else would be able to help this girl. He'd want someone to come to his rescue if he was in trouble too. So with one last deep breath, Clay ran into the brush and bolted after Lee and Carley. At least he had decent running shoes on!

...

A few minutes passed as Clay, Carley and Lee ran to where the scream came from. As much as Clay hoped they got there in time, he was beginning to doubt his decision. He didn't want to. He just did. Even if they found where the scream came from, there was no guarantee she wasn't already dead or moved to a different place. So this could all be a wild goose chase. That, and he also had absolutely no weapon for defense or help the others. He didn't even have his backpack! He should have thought this over better.

"How…do we know…she's still there?" he panted as they continued. For all of his strength, he had not been doing a lot of running the last few months. He needed to get in better shape.

"We don't," Lee said much less winded. "She can't have gone far if she did though."

"We just have to have some faith," Carley said also much less winded than Clay. Darn! She was paraphrasing what he said earlier that morning. Funny how that kind of stuff comes back at you. Ok…he'll have some faith then.

They eventually reached a large open area amongst the trees where they assumed the scream came from. Lee surveyed the area ahead as Clay and Carley checked the sides. Clay couldn't see anyone, but he could hear the walkers stirring up. Any minute now, they would flood around them.

"See anything?" Lee said as he moved to Carley. She shook her head, but kept her gun raised. They'd probably keep looking for at least a minute or two before they went back. Clay figured that being even as far away as he was from them was not a good idea though.

As he moved back to them, he heard another scream. The bushes behind Carley rustled and he heard footsteps. He pointed to the noise. "Look!"

A girl burst from the bushes in a panicked run. She couldn't be more than nineteen based on her looks. She had short brown hair, very white skin, green eyes and an average figure. She had a backpack slung across one shoulder. She also wore a pink shirt with black stripes running across it and black pants. Her face and arms were scratched up from the bushes and whatever else she ran into, but she looked fine other than that. She made her way towards them.

"OVER THERE!" A gruff voice shouted in the distance.

"I SEE HER!" Another person said.

"GET HER!" Yet another voice shouted. Well…that was unexpected.

Just then, an arrow shot through the bushes and hit the girl in the shoulder. She cried out in pain and tumbled to the ground, the shaft breaking from her roll.

Two more arrows shot out from the bushes. Time seemed to slow down as Clay figured their trajectory. One of them was going to sail past Lee with no hassle on his part. The other, however, was going to hit Carley right in the head!

Before Clay could even register what he was doing, he quickly dove into Carley, wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her to the ground as the arrow flew centimeters above her head. That close! It was that close to hitting them! And Clay saved her!

He'd have to pat himself on the back later though.

"Get to cover!" Lee shouted as they heard more arrows fire. Lee ran to a tree nearby the wounded girl as Clay picked up Carley and ran to another tree nearby. Two more arrows bounced off the tree as he set her behind it. More arrows continued to fire around them.

"WHO THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"SHE GOT ALLIES?!"

"KILL 'EM!"

"YOU GONNA DIE!" The voices continued to shout as they fired.

Clay looked to Lee with panic. Lee seemed equally worried, but Clay could see him trying to work out some kind of plan. He looked over to the wounded girl. She held her shoulder with one hand as she tried to crawl and dodged the arrows flying above her. She looked up to Clay and he could see her plead for help. He then turned to Carley, who seemed to be in equal measures of panic and absolute surprise over what Clay just did. Things were not looking good.

He heard footsteps rushing towards them. Whoever was attacking them wasn't going to keep their distance. To their right, Clay could see the shape of walkers shambling to their position. Their snarls and hungry groans were just as intimidating as the arrows raining around them. As he tried to control his panic, an impromptu idea then ran across his mind. It was stupid, but there wasn't much else they could do. He took a deep breath and turned to Carley.

"When…when I say so…" He said in a futile attempt sound braver than he was. "…get the girl and run back with Lee."

"What!" Carley said shocked.

Clay turned back. The shooters were getting closer. He had to act now.

"Go!" He said as he moved from cover and waved his arms around as he ran. "HEY! OVER HERE!"

"THERE!"

"I SEE HIM!"

"SHOOT 'EM!"

"STICK THAT JACKASS!"

That got their attention. Now Clay had to not get shot! He bolted as he felt arrows fly all around him. The walkers also spotted him and quickly changed their course to follow him. And why not! Let's get everyone to chase that random dude shouting like a crazy person.

Just then, an arrow cut through his side and sliced his skin. He felt his blood trickle down his skin. Crap! He quickly strafed to his left, dodging three arrows that embedded to a nearby tree. Another arrow struck the head of a walker approaching from his left. More walkers began appearing from behind other trees nearby. He turned back as he kept going. The arrows were less frequent now, but the walkers were increasing. How long did he have to keep running to lose them?

Not long it seemed, as he suddenly tumbled down a small hill. Rocks and sticks scratched against his clothes and skin until he came to a stop. He body ached and his breath was short. He was still alive though.

"WHERE'D HE GO?"

"FIND HIM AND THE GIRL!"

"I THINK I SAW SOME OTHER PEOPLE!"

Oh no! Clay could feel his heart racing. If they saw Carley and Lee, they might follow them back to…

Clay turned to see more walkers emerge from the forest and close in on him. Crap crap crap! He scurried to his feet and frantically looked around. How was he going to get back? He wasn't exactly paying attention to what direction the three of them came from. Taking his best guess, Clay ran towards a group of walkers blocking his way. One of them reached out its arms to grab Clay. Doing his best to keep his momentum, he picked up a large stick off the ground and swung it at the walker's head. It was knocked onto the floor and Clay barreled past the others as they continued to chase him.

Clay's lungs were on fire as he ran. His heart hammered against his ribcage. His side continued to bleed. And he still had no idea where he was going!

Then he heard something in the distance. He heard it again. And again. And…again. Gunfire! That was not a good sign. As he ran towards the noise, he could hear faint shouting and hollering accompanying it. No….! Did they find the motor inn?

Clay picked up the pace. He had to help. He didn't know what he could do, but he had to make it back. This is exactly why the mission tells you to never leave your mission companion. Bad stuff happens when you go alone…

TO BE CONTINUED….

**Duh duh duuuhhhh! A cliffhanger. The cheapest of all storytelling devices to prolong tension! Hehehe! Hopefully I won't have to keep things hanging for too long. I have a pretty good idea what to use for the next chapter, so now I just need to write it.**

**Don't let me just lead you by the nose through this however. I am happy to receive feedback for anything I am doing. What's working? What's not? What could be improved? I'm all ears.**

**Thank you all for your feedback and support by the way. This is a lot of fun to write and if even a few people are entertained by this, then I am content. Make sure to tell your friends though!  
**


	5. What We Face

**What excuse does Zgamer have for the lateness of this chapter? Well, let me tell you!**

** I totally had a chapter ready to post a week ago. It was mostly done and I was excited to get it up for the readers…until I read it over again. Then I realized I was not satisfied with how it read. It lacked…suspense. After tinkering with a few new angles, I decided to power through the chapter over these last few days. I even wrote for six hours straight one night to finish the rough draft!**

** Ignore my excuses though. Here it is! Let me first offer more thanks to Jerus and my fellow authors from the RP Clay originated from. They have been instrumental with planning events for this fanfiction in the future, so enough thanks can't be given.**

** Also, for all of you Halo and Mass Effect fans like me, go check out my crossover Last of An Ancient Breed! It's a spin-off to another author's story, but it should still read clearly for people not familiar with the source material.**

** And now for another tale from Clay McKinley's life. Last we left him, Clay had outran a flurry of arrows to help save a girl but those people shooting at him still found the motor inn. Now we are following his frantic run back to the motor inn…**

Leaves and branches crunched under Clay's shoes as he hightailed back to the motor inn as fast as he could. His heart was still racing a million miles a minute, his side where the arrow cut him continued to bleed and his lungs burned from exhaustion. Yet he was undeterred. The gunfire and noise still going on towards the direction of the motor inn gave him motivation to continue. He had to try and do something. He didn't want to be the one responsible for-

He tried not to think about it. Yet it was hard not to. Worst-case scenarios ran through his head of how just his very absence could be the deciding factor in someone's death. Heck, he worried that his foolish distraction attempt was the cause for the assailants finding them in the first place. It made him sick with worry to think that if he got Carley killed…well, he just didn't know what he'd do.

As he kept running, the gunfire stopped. Now he was very worried. He spent whatever energy he had left into running faster. He prayed that he wouldn't be greeted with the sight of everyone's corpses! He weaved past trees, crashed through bushes and finally made it to the brush in front of the motor inn. The sign and everything above the tree line looked intact, but that didn't mean much.

He barreled through the brush…and was greeted with a bullet whizzing by his shoulder. Clay yelped and stumbled onto the ground. It feels like everyone was trying to shoot him today. He sprawled prone on the road with his hands over his head. Then it occurred to him that the bullet came from the motor inn.

"Clay!"

Clay looked up to see Lilly on the second floor of the nearest building with her rifle still smoking. She was alive! She seemed irritated, but she was in one piece. Lilly motioned to people in the main area of the inn.

"Move the dumpsters!" She said to them.

Clay observed the scene around him as one of the dumpsters was pushed out. Whoever was shooting at them covered the length of the fence with arrows and bullet holes. Other arrows that didn't hit their mark lay scattered on the road near the fence as well. And to Clay's right he saw….a body! A man in thick winter clothing and a black ski mask was collapsed on the ground with a bleeding hole in his forehead. His hand was still gripped tightly around an uzi. Worse, the man's hollow dead eyes were staring right at Clay!

Then Clay heard a new noise growing in the distance. Walkers…and lots of them! Their snarls and moans echoed through the trees and their shambling footsteps scraped across fallen leaves. Probably best to not be outside.

Once the dumpster was out far enough, Clay scrambled to his feet and rushed inside. On the opposite side of the dumpster was Lee, also in one piece. Good! Lee made it back safely! Now they had to survive the walkers.

"Help me pull it back in!" Lee said to Clay. Clay did not hesitate as they dragged the dumpster to position. He also saw Kenny and Ben bringing the sofa from behind the RV towards them. Lee and Clay moved out of the way as they placed the sofa directly behind the dumpsters. Clay saw that they had also blocked the other side with barrels and other boxes they had found.

The four of them backed away and positioned themselves in cover as they saw a group of walkers preparing to emerge from the brush. Kenny picked up a rifle that had been set down and Lee pulled out a pistol from his waistband. Ben just acted absolutely befuddled as to what he should do. To be fair, Clay probably looked the same. He turned to see Lilly line up a shot at one of the walkers.

Clay panicked. He could see the walkers break through the brush, their rotted jaws making those eerie chewing motions. Now he felt even worse than if he had gotten the group shot by bandits! Three people shooting the walkers were not going to be enough to keep them at bay. What were they going to do now?

Then something was heard in the distance.

"TESTIN' ONE TWO THREE!" A deep, southern voice echoed through what sounded like a megaphone.

Everybody turned to the voice dumbstruck, while still keeping their weapons trained. Even some of the walkers turned to the voice.

"THIS IS A SPECIAL MESSAGE FOR ALL THE FOLKS WITH A CROWD OF MEATBAGS COMIN' THERE WAY!"

More of the walkers were alerted to the noise and started to change their course towards it. Clay turned to Lee, who gave a look of 'I don't understand it either' with his eyes. Ben, Kenny and Lilly gave the voice their full attention. He also looked back to see Katjaa, Clementine and Duck emerging from their hiding spot behind the RV.

Also in the group was the wounded girl from the forest. Apparently Lee and Carley laid her on a mattress from another room. She clutched the shaft of the arrow still in her shoulder, trying to hide her pained expressions as she also listened. He felt glad that at least they managed to save her from those guys.

"Y'ALL HAVE SOMETHIN' THAT BELONGS TO US AND, SINCE WE TRYIN' TO BE DECENT HERE, HAVE COMMITTED THE CRIME OF PROPERTY THEFT!" The voice continued.

The wounded girl was not amused by that remark. Clay didn't blame her. However, his attention wasn't focused on her anymore. As he ran a quick headcount of everyone around him, he released something was not right…

"WELL…" The voice drawled on. "…LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE SOMETHIN' OF YERS TOO!"

Clay whipped his head back towards the voice so hard his neck would have snapped. No, he thought to himself. They couldn't!

"MIGHTY FIESTY THIS ONE WAS, BUT NOTHING WE COULDN'T HANDLE!"

Clay's heart sank. They had Carley! What did they mean by 'couldn't handle'? Like they subdued her? Hurt her? …killed her? The walkers were now almost completely diverted to the voice.

"NOW THE MEATBAGS WILL BE HERE SOON, SO LET'S TRY TO REACH A GENTLEMAN'S DEAL HERE! THERE'S A HILL A FEW MILES WEST FROM Y'ALL! IF YA WANT TO LIVE THROUGH THE NIGHT, BRING US THE GIRL BEFORE SUNSET!"

Everyone looked to each other concerned. The walkers disappeared from the view, causing Lee, Kenny and Lilly to lower their weapons.

"AND TO MAKE SURE THERE'S NO FUNNY BUSINESS, HAVE THAT IDIOT WE WERE SHOOTING AT BRING HER…ALONE!"

Idiot? Even with them threatening the group, that was rather harsh to call Clay that.

"WE SAW HIM MAKE IT BACK TO Y'ALL SO WE KNOW HE'S THERE! HE BETTA BE UNARMED TOO! IF HE HAS ANY WEAPONS OR YER LATE…" The voice paused. "Y'ALL WILL WISH YA WERE UNDEAD! Y'ALL BEEN WARNED!" And with that, there was silence.

Clay's heartbeat slowed down, but his worry had not subsided. All he could think about was Carley. He felt guilty, like whatever happened to her was his fault. Still, why was Lee here and she wasn't?

"What happened?" He said to Lee frustrated.

"What?" Lee asked confused.

"What happened to Carley?" Clay tried to keep himself calm, but his worry was still there. "I told her to run with you! How did they get her?"

"She went looking for you!" Clay turned to see Lilly walking towards them, her rifle slung over her shoulder. "She dropped off your precious cargo and went out all alone…" She approached Clay…and slapped him in the face! "Because you're all a bunch of goddamn morons!"

Clay rubbed his cheek where she slapped him as he stepped away from her. He had seen her be upset before, but this was something new. Having your makeshift home almost overrun by walkers would likely make anyone upset.

"Lilly!" Lee shouted at her.

"What? You got some flimsy ass excuse for all of this?" Lilly glared at him. "You could have gotten us killed!"

Clay glanced over to Ben, who had his sights trained curiously at the wounded girl. He seemed….suspicious about her. Clay couldn't quite put his finger on it. He didn't have much time to think on it though, as Lilly diverted attention back to him.

"I expected more from you, Clay!" She said sternly.

"I…I…" Clay stammered nervously. He didn't like being confrontational and now he is was in middle of something he was partly responsible for. Or at least he felt that way.

"Well speak up for yourself, kid!" Kenny snapped equally stern. "You brought the walkers to the motor inn, got Carley killed and might still get my family killed. You happy about that?" Clay squirmed as he thought about that. He still tried to deny that Carley was dead. She couldn't be. She was too tough for that.

"Leave him alone!" Lee said sharply back at Kenny and Lilly.

"Or what?" Kenny turned to Lee with a sharp look. "You're just as in the shit as he is! If it wasn't for Carley and you two, we wouldn't have had any of this happen!"

"And what, leave her for the walkers?" Lee said pointing to the wounded girl.

"Better her than us!" Kenny defended smugly. Clay pathetically averted Lilly's disappointed glare as the argument continued. "Play the nice guy card all you want! We got to think smart out here!"

"I didn't see you try and stop us!" Lee argued back. Clay hadn't heard Lee get this upset before. He stared both Lilly and Kenny down. "If that was any of you out there, I know you'd be singing a different tune right now! If that was Duck or Katjaa out there-"

"Well it's not now, is it?" Kenny interrupted. "We take care of our own people here! Screw everyone else!"

"And you're all doing a pretty shitty job at that too!" Someone said behind them.

Everyone turned to see the wounded girl sitting up, still clutching her wound. Katjaa, Duck and Clementine were around her looking back at the group.

"Shut up!" Lilly snapped back at her. "It's your damn fault in the first place."

"Fine, it is. Shame on me for needing to be rescued!" She mocked sarcastically as she pointed to Clay. "By the way, hero boy over there is still bleeding like a Quentin Tarantino film! He almost died trying to lure those assholes away. I think he at least deserves a thank you patch up for trying to save you ungrateful pricks!"

Everyone turned to Clay as he glanced at the gash at his side. It was still bleeding pretty bad and had bits of dirt inside. He had pretty much forgotten that it hurt until she brought it up, but he felt it was just making things more awkward. "It's…it's fine, really." He said trying to divert the attention.

"No it's not," Katjaa said to him concerned as she and the kids walked to the wounded girl. "Let me look at that."

Clay saw the stern glares from Kenny and Lilly. As much as they wouldn't admit it, it seemed like the girl's little comment stung them a little. The tone and insults probably angered them more too, which wouldn't help her in the long run. What she said was true, though that did make Clay a bit nauseous thinking that he could have been killed. He really didn't think that plan through. There wasn't much time to. It was that or awkwardly try sneaking out with possibly all of them getting killed. It was a big presumption, but he still wanted to justify what he did was right to a little degree.

It wouldn't do much now though. With a sigh, Clay made his way to Katjaa. She pointed to a chair next to the wounded girl. "Sit down and take your shirt off. Duck, get him a towel from one of the rooms." Duck ran off to do so as Katjaa looked back out to Lee, Lilly and Kenny. "Let's just take some time to calm down."

"Ain't no time for that, Kat," Kenny replied. "It's going to be sunset soon and-"

"And we should try to think before we say or do anything we will regret," Katjaa interrupted. "We'll talk about after Clay is taken care of."

"Geez," Kenny murmured annoyed. "Freaking kid's been here a few days and he gets royal treatment." He pointed to the wounded girl. "And what, her too?"

"Yes," Katjaa answered without missing a beat.

"Why? Why should we even-"?

"Because it's the right thing to do!" Katjaa said matter of fact. "It's like Lee said. If it were me or Duck…" She didn't need to finish for Kenny to shut up. "Give me ten minutes, Ken."

Kenny breathed deeply while Clay removed his shirt and sat in the chair. His shirt was soaked with blood on top of the tears he got while running and falling. He chucked it to the side as Duck appeared with a fresh towel. He figured Katjaa wanted him to clean the wound up before she got to him. He started wiping off the blood and dirt, still focusing his attention on the scene happening.

"Ten minutes!" Lilly said. "No later." And with that she walked off to her room and slammed the door. Kenny folded his arms and skulked off to some other part of the main area.

"God…" Ben said with a deep exhale of released nervousness.

Katjaa sent Clementine off to Clay as she approached Ben and Lee. "I need you two to help with this," she said referring to the wounded girl.

As Katjaa discussed some things with them, Clementine grabbed a couple of water bottles and brought one for the wounded girl. "Here," she said. "Katjaa says you need it."

The wounded girl accepted the bottle graciously. "Thanks, kid," she said as she took a deep swig.

Clementine brought Clay the other bottle, which he also accepted but added a small hug with his free arm. "Thanks, Clem."

She returned the hug back. "Does it hurt?"

"A little, but the hug helps," Clay attempted to joke. Clementine smiled as she let go.

"Was it the bad people from the barn?" Duck asked Clay.

"I don't know," Clay replied after taking a swig from the water bottle. "Definitely not nice people though."

"You're telling me," the wounded girl said as she set the now empty bottle down. She was certainly thirsty! She licked the remaining water around her mouth off to get every last drop.

Clay turned to her as he pressed the towel to stop the bleeding. It stung, but it was a necessary pain. "Hey…uh, I'm really sorry about that," He said glancing at her wound.

"You didn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "They probably would have done worse if you guys hadn't arrived. Your name's Clay, right?"

"Yeah. What's yours?"

She took a few seconds to answer back, almost as if she wasn't sure she wanted to tell him. "Evelyn," she finally said.

"Well…nice to meet you," he said back.

"Yeah. And I hope they didn't kill your friend," she added. Well, that didn't make Clay feel any better. He was relieved when Katjaa, Lee and Ben came back for them though.

"Ben, take Clay to patch his wound up," Katjaa said to him and turned to Duck. "Ducky, honey, bring the medkit over once they found something."

"Well at least you guys have a doctor here," Evelyn said.

"Actually, I'm a vet," Katjaa replied plainly. "You do what you can in these cases though."

"Oh…" Evelyn said not too comforted. Lee and Katjaa. "So are you planning to yank that arrow out action movie style?"

"Only if we want an arrowhead stuck in your shoulder," Lee replied.

Clay sat up as Ben and the kids went to where the medical supplies were. As Clay followed them, he looked back to Evelyn. Lee and Katjaa were reviewing what they would do as Evelyn looked back to Clay. It felt similar to the moment their eyes met at the forest, though through much different circumstances. Instead of saying 'Help me' with her eyes, she was saying 'This is going to suck.'

Clay had another thought as he was walking over. There was still the issue of having to hand her over to the assailants at some point. Well, more accurately, the issue of HIM having to hand her over….unarmed. Not that Clay would be very useful with a weapon, but what was the guarantee they wouldn't shoot him as soon as he handed her over? Was there a way he didn't have to hand her over? Maybe Lilly and Lee would think of a way to strike back at the bandits before they had to make a deal. Still, what if Carley was alive? Maybe they could trade for her for Evelyn. Did that make it the right thing to do? Ok, so he had more than one more thought to ponder on.

He caught up with Ben, Clementine and Duck as Ben rifled through a medkit. After Ben pulled out a few big bandages, he gave the medkit to Duck who ran off with it back to Katjaa. Ben handed Clay the bandages to Clay, who immediately started applying them.

"Do you think the bandits have Carley?" Clementine asked timidly.

Clay was pretty surprised by her directness. He looked to Ben, who seemed just as unsure as he was. He then turned back to her. "I…I hope so." This didn't even sound comforting to his own mind, so he attempted to back track. "I mean, I hope so, but I hope that they…I mean, that they didn't hurt her or…" He stopped when he saw Clementine still worried. He sighed. "I really hope she's ok."

"Can you pray for her to be ok?" She asked him.

That tugged Clay's heart a little. It was just so earnest. "Well…hopefully we can all pray for that," he said.

"We should probably pray that Evelyn won't get us all killed," Ben said.

Clay paused applying his bandages. He was pretty sure Ben hadn't talked to her yet. "How did you know her name?"

"She went to my high school," Ben said with his hands in his pockets. "I had a feeling it was her when she came in, but hearing her talk confirmed it."

Clay's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ben said. "We didn't talk much, but she was in one of my classes."

Clay smiled. "Wow. Small world! Maybe you can help me vouch for the others to let her stay."

"I don't want her around here," Ben said.

That took Clay by surprise. "What?" He said concerned.

"I don't know her personally, but from what I've heard…" Ben paused. "Well, it'd be a bad idea to keep her around."

Clay shrugged confused. "It's…it's probably just rumors."

Ben shook his head. "Uh uh. Not rumors."

Clay shook his head. "Well, then you could just lie-" He stopped when he realized what he was saying. "I mean, just omit that part. You seriously want to just hand her over to those guys?"

"Not normally," Ben said. "But you heard those guys."

"Well I mean, we could-"

"That was A LOT of people out there," Ben said pointing out to the forest. "It's not like we can take them head on."

Clay just stood there flustered. He didn't understand the situation for sure, but he knew that throwing somebody back to the wolves after saving them was kind of jerky too.

"But…but…" Clay stammered to search for something to finish the sentence. "I have to go out there alone if we do that."

"I don't envy you," Ben answered plainly.

Clay glared at him.

"Hey! I'm just saying," Ben defended himself. "I mean, you guys did the right thing, but this is probably the right thing too. Unless you know a better way to negotiate with killer bandits."

Sometimes Ben could be a real killjoy…especially when he was kind of right. Clay was getting nervous. It sounds like Kenny, Lilly and Ben were going to be unanimous on just doing what the bandits asked. He didn't know what Katjaa would say, though he figured Lee might offer his own two cents towards Clay's opinion…however flimsy Clay's argument was.

"OOOOWWWW!"

Clay, Ben and Clementine turned Evelyn's direction. Lee removed the arrow from her shoulder and cast it onto the ground. Evelyn had a look of pain like she wanted to stab something, but she didn't squirm. Duck just watched as Katjaa cleaned up the wound.

"Whoa!" Duck said as he looked at the bloody arrow.

"Ducky, I told you to go back to Clay," Katjaa said sternly as she turned to Ben. "Ben, can you come help us?"

Ben sighed. "Man, I'm just an errand boy today." He walked over to them as Duck passed him making his way back to Clay and Clementine.

"Did you see that?" Duck said amazed to Clementine and Clay as he pointed to the arrow.

"Eww!" Clementine said disgusted.

It was a pretty gross thing, though it could be a lot worse. Like Clay being alone with bandits and walkers around him. Soon the ten minutes would be up and they would decide how to handle the situation. Clay assumed everyone was going to be pretty agreed on what to do. It's not that they didn't have much of a choice. He just didn't like it. He finished applying the last bandage on his wound and folded his arms. He had to admit…he was scared. He wished he had Carley to back him up like this morning. At least she wouldn't be afraid to face bandits. As the others continued to patch up Evelyn, Clay decided to take Clementine's advice. He went to his room to put on a shirt and offer a prayer for whatever would happen next…

Things pretty much happened like Clay expected. After Lee, Katjaa and Ben patched Evelyn up, they had a chitchat with Kenny and Lilly to deal with the situation. Clay didn't join in though, as he "volunteered" to watch over Duck, Clementine and Evelyn while they talked. That and he figured his presence wouldn't be needed. It's not like he could persuade them.

After a few more minutes, the group made their way to Clay and the others. Clay sighed as they lifted Evelyn quickly to her feet.

"Get your damn hands off me!" Evelyn shouted as Lilly held her arms back with some struggle. She wrapped some rope around Evelyn's hands similar to how she did with Clay when he first showed up.

Evelyn tried to kick back at Lilly, but to no avail. She looked up to Clay with that same syrupy pleading look she gave before. "Don't let them take me back!"

Clay didn't know what to say…so he looked away ashamed.

"Clay!" Evelyn said. "They'll kill me!"

This pleading was making this moment even harder. This was a no win situation for someone no matter what. Either they give her back to save everyone or they risk having the bandits murder them. The sun descending in the distance meant they had no time left to decide.

"Clay, come on," Lilly said as she motioned him over. Clay sighed and walked over to them. He grabbed the rope around Evelyn's hands. Lilly had bound them pretty tight.

"If it's the one he means, the hill's just a short ways down the road," Lee said pointing to the road down the left. "There's a large oak tree on the top with a bench under it. You'll recognize it when you get there."

Ben and Kenny pulled one of the dumpsters out for the two of them to exit as Lilly pointed to Evelyn. "If she tries to run or give you trouble, stop her however you can. Break her legs if you have to."

"Are you usually a bitch like this to everyone or just your hostages?" Evelyn sassed back.

Lilly was about to smack her hard, but stopped herself. She exhaled deeply and turned to Clay. "Just give her to them and leave. Don't linger or let them talk you."

Clay nodded. He tried not to think about the whole thing, but he agreed he should do it quickly. He looked back to the others. Katjaa stood with Duck off on one side as Kenny made his way back to them. Lee seemed conflicted by all of this, but it looked like he was outnumbered here. He stood by Clementine as he watched the scene. Ben just looked like he wanted this all over with.

Before Clay left, Lilly gripped Clay's hand gently and offered one last sentiment. "Please be careful."

Clay didn't look back, but sighed deeply as he led Evelyn out. He still remembered Lilly slapping him and calling them morons a while, but now she was hoping his safety. He really didn't understand her. The others slid the dumpster back into place as the two of them proceeded down the road. Aside from some scattered leaves, branches and garbage, it was fairly empty. Just the absolute right setting for his lonely little march.

For at least ten minutes, they were both silent. There wasn't anything really to say. Clay was leading her to likely doom, though he expected more resistance from her. She didn't even try to kick him. Clay used the quiet time to distract his panic with some hope that Carley was still alive. Last thing he wanted was to see the bandits with her corpse.

Then Evelyn broke the silence. "You're seriously letting them do this?"

Clay didn't answer.

"Hey! Buddy! I know you're bothered by this too, so don't ignore me," Evelyn said more forcefully.

Clay turned to her. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say 'I'm sorry' and think of some way out of this," Evelyn said.

"How?" Clay answered. "If I don't do this, they're going to kill us."

"How do you know? They could just be talking out their ass with empty threats. These guys are cowards!"

"They might still have Carley…" Clay knew she was trying to persuade him. He didn't blame her.

"Like I said, they're a bunch of cowards. Just take her back from them yourself. I'll help you."

Clay turned away from her. She clearly didn't know whom she was talking to. Clay was about as intimidating as a pile of pillows.

"Do you always let them decide for you?" She asked accusingly.

Clay didn't respond. He wasn't sure what her angle was, but it was making him a bit antsy.

"Are you scared of them?" She probed. "You afraid they're going to hurt you if you talk back?"

Clay shook his head.

"Then what?" She asked.

Clay fumbled over his thoughts. "I….I don't know."

"That's a shitty excuse," she said bluntly.

Clay tried to ignore her. If she wanted to escape, she had every opportunity to do so. Not that he would want to force her down like Lilly suggested…which sounded worst in his head when he said it like that.

"You could survive without them," she said. "You could just run away now and never look back. It's not like you owe them anything, especially after how that bitch and the asshole with the mustache treated you."

Clay attempted to change the suspect. "Why were the bandits chasing you?"

Evelyn hesitated. "Because they took something precious from me."

So…they were chasing her because they stole something from her? He wasn't quite sure he followed. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "You want the truth?"

Usually when people led with something like that, it wasn't a good sign. Still, Clay decided to indulge his curiosity, so he nodded.

"I was helping them for a while…the bandits," she admitted. This did surprise Clay, but she kept going. "They had me pick up food from some crazy hillbilly family they made a deal with a while back."

Crazy hillbillies? It was then he connected that to the St. John family Carley told him about. So did Evelyn know what the food was that? He hoped the answer was no.

"Those people were a bunch of sick bastards…" Evelyn said. "…but at least they let me be with her because I helped."

"Who?" Clay asked curiously.

"There was this girl," she answered. "I met her when I joined them. She was the most beautiful little thing I had met in a long time."

Beautiful? That was a pretty strong word to use for another girl.

"As long as I could have her for myself, I indulged them with whatever they asked for. Sometimes they even watched us when we fooled around," she added. "I guess the entertainment value made them treat us nicer. God, what an ass she had!"

That was probably more than he needed to hear. Clay didn't say anything, mostly because he didn't want to further paint any unwanted images in his head.

"Then one day, we found out that those things overran the hillbillies' dairy. That meant we weren't getting any more meat from them…and no one was happy about that. Suddenly, watching my girl and me do our thing was not so interesting anymore."

She looked out into the forest. "Then one day…she was gone. No goodbye, no message or anything. They all said a bunch of shit when I asked about it, but I knew they did something with her. I kept searching and searching, but…" She shed a tear. "I don't know what happened. I wasn't going to stay there another minute and have them lie to me though. So I took a bunch of their shit, knocked out some guy who was in my way and ran." She smiled as she tried to hold back a tear. "Guess I wasn't terribly discreet."

Clay felt empathetic for her. He really did. He just wasn't going to stop walking.

"That's just what people do though," she said to him. "Offer you goodies with one hand and give you the finger with the other. You ask me, those people you're with will do the same to you."

Clay saw the hill Lee mentioned in the distance. They weren't that far away. He just had to keep them going. Maybe her talking will work to his benefit if she just keeps talking.

"So why don't you just screw them and leave?" She asked him.

"They're my friends," Clay said half-focused.

"Hate to break it to you hero, but they aren't your friends. You heard that asshole. He'd just as likely ditch you if you were in my position."

He wanted to tell her to shut up, but he kept his mouth shut.

"So how about you man up and show him whose boss?" She continued. "Show them you don't need them. So the bandits might shoot them all up? That's their own damn fault for staying in that crappy place."

Clay tried to tune her out by thinking a Broadway song in his head, but it wasn't working.

"You ran past a flurry of arrows and hardly got hit just to save me! You got more stones and heart than any of them combined!" She said with praise. "They're just going to hold you back if you stay."

As the hill came onto their right, Clay stopped them in the middle of the road and stared at her. "Why do you think that?" He asked with some annoyance.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "I know I wouldn't have talked down to you or slapped you for trying to save someone, even if it brought a swarm of those things. I would have applauded you for making a decision you felt was right."

Clay hesitated. She was probably trying to flatter him…but she did sound honest. He crossed his arms and looked away.

"Seriously!" She said. "If you and I were a team, we'd survive longer than any of them. We're smart and strong enough to handle anything or anyone out there. All you'd have to do is cut me free and we can run away right now."

For about a second, Clay thought about that. It was stupid to even entertain the thought, but the what-if scenario played in his head regardless. For whatever positives he could possibly come up with, common sense and the thought of everyone in the motor inn dead prevailed.

He sighed. "I'm sorry…I really am."

She stared at him for a second, then nodded. "Me too." Clay raised an eyebrow confused as she took a step closer to him. She then smiled deviously. "This is going to hurt."

With that, she knocked her head hard into his face. Clay recoiled as she bolted to the forest as fast as she could. How could he have left her catch him off guard? He gathered his senses and was about to run after her…

….until someone jumped out from behind a tree and grabbed her by the neck. Evelyn gagged as the man pinned her to the ground face first.

"GODDAMNIT!" She shouted. "LET ME GO, YOU BASTARD!"

Clay felt very intimidated seeing the man who stopped her. He was a tall black man with a shaved head covered by a hubcap, large muscles and raggedy clothes he had scrounged up from wherever. A big hunting rifle was slung over his back, with a pistol and other items poking out from his backpack. The man stared down Clay as he held down a struggling Evelyn. Clay turned to run away.

Only to be greeted by another man who had emerged from another tree to block his exit. The man was wearing a ski mask, had a white t-shirt with jeans and pointed an M16 at Clay. Clay looked around for some possible way to escape.

"Don't even think about killin' her, Kel," a familiar deep, southern voice said from behind Clay. He turned to see someone emerge from behind a tree on the opposite side of the road. Clay didn't know if he should feel intimidated or disgusted. He was an old white man, probably in his late fifties. He was also fairly tall, though much fatter and portly. His gray hair and beard were grown out to a pretty long length, which were both greasy looking and unkempt. His apparel was definitely cleaner than the black man's though. He wore what looked like some kind of fancy outdoors hiking attire, including a vest with multiple pockets for items. There was also a revolver holstered on his belt, along with a large carving knife on the opposite side. He was certainly not going for a nice guy first appearance.

The old man took off his sunglasses and smiled to show off his grimy yellow teeth. "At least not until we finish this exchange."

Just then, Clay heard more feet and rustling as people emerge out of nowhere from both sides of the road. Most of them looked more like the black man…Kel…and the other guy, but that meant they were still intimidating. Some were dressed in casual attire with various bits of clothing and gear on them they had scrounged. A few were women, but the majority were men. Some were wearing ski masks, some were wearing bandanas around the faces and others just glared at Clay with their uncovered faces. Clay estimated that there may have been about twenty of them…and just about all of them had guns and crossbows aimed right at him!

Clay felt sweat on his brow and neck. They had him surrounded! He could feel his knees shaking. Slowly, he lifted his hands up in some attempt to show he was unarmed.

"Put those arms down, boy!" The old man chuckled sinisterly as he approached Clay. As Clay slowly lowered his arms, a little girl came from behind a tree and followed the old man. She was young, probably about Clementine's age. She had long blonde hair and a ratty looking pink skirt to cover her dirty skin. She skipped along and pointed at Clay as they stopped in front of him.

"See!" She said excitedly to the old man. "You were right! You knew he'd come!"

"That he did," the old man smiled at her. "Surprised ya doubted me."

The little girl ran up and kicked Clay in the shin with her sneakers. He held back his wince of pain as some of the other bandits laughed. "You're in trouble now! Mr. Newel's going to tear out your eyes and dance on your balls!"

"Now now, Jossie," the old man…Newel…said to her as he pulled her behind him. "This boy came quite a way to fulfill his end of the bargain. And that he did! Just like a good gentleman." He smiled and spread his arm out to signal the rest of the group.

Clay turned around to see the other bandits creating a circle around him. He also saw Kel wrap a gag around Evelyn's mouth as she tried to shout more obscenities at him. Clay panicked and his heart rate rose. It was probably too late to run now.

"Ah ah ah!" Newel said as he grabbed Clay's jaw and turned him back to face him. "Now you wouldn't think about leavin' the party early, would ya?"

Clay's knees were shaking harder now. He was surprised they weren't clacking together!

"Ya scared?" Newel said feigning surprise. "Why, I'm hurt!" He let go of Clay and took a step back.

"He's scared shitless, Mr. Newel!" Jossie said mockingly to Clay.

"That he is," Newel chuckled. "But surely a guy who'd 'run past a flurry of arrows' wouldn't be scared of us!"

Clay tried to mouth some kind of thought, but his nervousness prevented him. However, this didn't escape Newel's notice.

"Speak up boy!" He exclaimed. "You got somethin' important to say? Say it!"

"Yeah, speak up!" A female bandit taunted. "A meatbag eat your tongue?"

Clay swallowed at that thought as he struggled to say what he wanted. "Le….le…let me go….please."

The bandits laughed. He could imagine Lilly smacking him again for being like this. Having a bunch of crazy people surrounding you with weapons was pretty scary though.

"Well…that was anticlimactic," Newel joked with mock disappointment.

"Aw…" Jossie groaned. "He doesn't want to play with us."

"Don't ya worry," Newel reassured her before hardening his tone. "He ain't goin' nowhere yet."

Newel took a few steps towards Clay, who attempted to take a few steps back only to feel the butt of an aimed rifle in his spine. He froze in place as Newel got right up into his face.

"Now…" Newel said wafting his rotten breath into Clay's nostrils. Clay tried not to gag as Newel continued. "I'd say we settled this part of the trade smooth as Skippy. However, there's a…how would ya put it…outstandin' predicament that has yet to be resolved."

Newel walked to Clay's right side. "Now, how long have you been with them folks in the motor inn?" He inquired of Clay.

Clay didn't answer immediately. Just then, Jossie ran up and kicked him in the shin again. "Answer Mr. Newel!" She shouted.

"I…I dunno," Clay stammered to cover the pain. "Four…four or five days."

"Hm…" Newel said with fake contemplation. "Four or five days…" He turned to Kel. "Hey Kel! How long ago did those country bumpkins get offed?"

"'bout four or five days ago, boss," Kel answered as he lifted Evelyn off the ground. Her feet had been bound too, which didn't stop her from trying to flail about.

"Huh…ain't that odd," Newel said teasingly. "And I'm goin' on a hunch here that ya ran into them motor inn folks as they were returnin' from somewhere, right?"

That was…unusually pointed a question to ask. Clay decided to answer quickly unless he wanted to get kicked again. "Y-yes."

"Uh huh…" Newel circled around Clay and went back into his face. "Well, lemme tell ya a little somethin' now. Those folks yer with are damn murderers! Every last lot of them!"

A few of the bandits murmured in agreement. Clay could have made a pot calling the kettle black reference…or however the expression goes…but he couldn't think straight to say it.

"They killed those country bumpkins dead that day ya met them," Newel continued. "And now they're killin' us too. Ya know how hungry these boys have been since we stopped gettin' meat?" Newel turned to the bandits. "How hungry are y'all?"

Everyone murmured loudly with discontent.

"I'm hungry too!" Jossie exclaimed.

"Aw, see," Newel said with feigned innocence. "They're starvin' a poor little girl. Heartless bastards! All of them!" Newel jammed a pointed finger into Clay's cheek. "So…we're goin' to have to strike another deal here! My boys and girls can't go on without food in their bellies. So we figured we might….enlist yer assistance."

Some of the bandits chuckled. Clay peeked out the corner of his eye to see Evelyn staring at him. He couldn't tell if she was angry with them or disappointed at him, but he couldn't focus enough to determine.

"Tell him we'll kill him unless they find food for us!" Jossie said as she bounced up and down.

"Damn it, Jossie! I was gettin' to that!" Newel said exasperated as he turned to her, finger still in Clay's face. "There's somethin' called suspense ya need to respect in moments like this."

"Sorry, Mr. Newel," Jossie apologized.

"Thank ya," Newel said as he lowered his finger and attempted to regain some poise. "Shame though, because I was just about to offer some extra incentive for him to agree with us. Guess we'll just have to-"

"What incentive?" Clay found himself blurting out. He couldn't help it. He had a feeling that it was something big.

"Oh ho…the bait has been taken," Newel toyed with Clay as he turned to the bandits. "Still…I don't know if he's earned this incentive. Seems like too much for him to have. Y'all agree with me?"

The bandits nodded and murmured in agreement. Newel looked back at Clay, who probably was pleading more than he expected with his facial expressions. "Aw, poor little fella. He's come so far. Let's give him a teaser." Newel turned to a group of three bandits. "Cargill!"

The others moved out of the way as a red haired bandit with a lazy eye dragged someone into the circle and threw them to the ground. Clay's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he recognized whom it was. She had bruises on her face and rope bound around her arms and legs, but she was still alive.

"Carley!" He shouted excitedly as he stepped forward.

"Uh uh," Newel wagged his finger as Cargill held a pistol to her head and two other bandits trained their sights at him. Clay stopped immediately. Carley lifted her head and smiled at Clay weakly.

"Now, yer new to all this, so I know I can't punish ya for causin' this grief," Newel said as he seemed to think up something at the last minute with a sinister smile. "But Lois Lane was there when all this shit happened. So were the mustache man, the negro with the curly kid, that butch bitch and all them in the motor inn."

Clay was very concerned now. Newel just nodded. "Yeah, we've been watchin' y'all." He turned to Carley and continued. "We're always watchin'. And in my watchin' today, I saw her shoot one of my boys in the head right before we nabbed her." He pressed a pointed finger right into one of her bruises, causing her to squirm. "That one was fer him!"

Clay felt anger boil in him, but the pointed weapons prevented a reaction.

"I don't think that's enough though….and neither do they," Newel said pointing to the group. Everyone gave their disapproval of Carley in one form or another.

"And since the Old Testament is my favorite book in the Bible, I figure I should uphold that age ole law…." He pulled out his revolver and pointed it at her head. A stone fell in Clay's stomach. "…of an eye fer a-"

"NO!" Clay shouted as he rushed towards them. A riffle butt slammed into his wounded side and he collapsed to the ground clutching the bandages. He felt two boots stomp onto his back and the tips of loaded arrows at his head.

Newel looked at Clay amused, his gun still trained at her head. "How cute. He wants to save her." He waved the gun around. "Buuuttt….if I don't kill her, how am I going to get fair compensation for poor Kevin?"

Clay looked to Carley. As frightened as she was, she remained as strong as she could. Why couldn't he be like that? He looked back and forth from her to Newel and back. He gulped and said what he didn't think he could say.

"Kill me instead…"

Newel looked surprised. Carley too. Newel walked over to Clay and crouched down to him. "Is that what ya really want?" He said with a quiet, intimidating and lingering threat.

Clay tried to keep his eyes trained back at Newel's stare…but it was hard. The panic he felt was outweighing any confidence he mustered to say that.

Newel then quickly jammed the end up his revolver's barrel into Clay's head. "IS THAT WHAT YA REALLY WANT?" He shouted with a thunderous roar as the gun shook from his anger. "YOU WANT ME TO PUT A BULLET IN YER HEAD AND SEND YA TO HELL? YA ALL READY TO DIE? IS THAT WHAT YER TELLIN' ME?"

Clay may have peed his pants for how much he cowered and whimpered. He closed his eyes tightly in fear, tears rolling down his cheek. If he was going to die, he wasn't doing it like a man.

The barrel moved from his head slowly and Newel stood up as Clay opened his eyes. "That's what I thought," Newel said condescendingly. "Shit, where's this brave young idiot we saw earlier today? Cause all I see is a skidmark in my drawers!" He snorted and spat onto Clay's neck. "Oh well!" He walked over, cocked his gun and pointed it at Carley. Carley's eyes widened. "Say goodbye to ole shitstain, bitch!"

"No!" Clay shouted with panic as he struggled against the people pinning him. "Please! I'll do anything! Don't hurt her!"

Newel lingered his aim on Carley for a few more seconds, then turned his head back to Clay. "Anything?"

Clay nodded as much as his pinned position would let him.

"Alright…" Newel said as he lowered his gun. "Here's what I'll do. I'm gonna amend the initial offer I planned. Instead of giving ya a week to find enough food for all of us, ya got two days. And it betta be A LOT of food! And if ya fail to do so or you even think about fleein'…" He waved his gun at Carley again. "She goes first!"

Clay exhaled in stress and relief. He probably got all of them in deeper trouble than they would have been, but at least he saved Carley, right?

"Aww…." Jossie moaned. "I wanted you to shoot your gun!"

"Oh, how can I say no to you?" He said to her as he pointed his gun right at Clay. "Ok, I'll shoot it just fer ya!" The two boots pinning him to the ground lifted off and backed away. Clay's eyes bugged out before he shut them tight and curled into a ball.

BANG!

Clay anticipated either death or searing pain to fill his body any second now. Instead….he opened his eyes to find himself still there. Except now there was a small mark in front of his face where the bullet ricochet off the road. The other bandits laughed at his panic.

"Ok, that was worth it!" Newel laughed before looking out into the forest. Familiar loud snarls and moans were heard. "And it sounds like meatbags are gonna ruin the fun for now." He pointed his gun to Clay with one last stern look. "Two days! Yer place! Lots of food! And don't even think about runnin' away!" Newel then turned and signaled the other bandits to leave into the forest.

"Yeah, we're watching you!" Jossie taunted as she followed Newel.

The rest of the bandits also left with him. Kel hoisted the bound Evelyn over his shoulder as he hurried to the rest of the group. The last bandit to follow was that Cargill guy, who at the last second cut Carley's ropes before running after them.

Carley quickly got to her feet and picked Clay off the ground. "Clay! Clay!"

Clay couldn't muster the strength to even look at her. Every fear and emotion he had rushed to his brain at once. He shook and muttered as he tried to regain focus.

He felt Carley wrap an arm around him and hurry him down the road. He turned to see walkers emerging from the forest to chase after them. He continued to run with Carley, barely paying attention to his surroundings. All he could think about was nearly dying more than once today. And that cold, nasty face of Newel…

After some more running, Carley and Clay managed to lose track of the walkers. They walked the remainder of the way, with Carley's arm wrapped around Clay's shoulders. Clay felt pathetic right now. Even though he was more focused than he was before, he still couldn't block out everything that just happened. He almost got Carley killed again. He got them into a terrible deal that they most likely couldn't fulfill. He almost died again but in a more pathetic way. Of the terrible days Clay could recall in his life, this was amongst that top pantheon.

It was getting dark. Dark meant that more walkers would be about. That meant he needed to keep quiet so they wouldn't come back and kill all of them. He didn't know why he thought of it that way. It just made sense in his worried mind.

Clay managed to peer up to see someone outside of the fence looking out at them as the motor inn filled his view.

"They're back!" He could hear the person who was most definitely Ben shout back to everyone else. The two of them walked up to the dumpster entrance as the rest of the group gathered in the main area.

"Carley!" Lee said surprised and pleased.

"What the hell happened?" Lilly said. "We heard a gunshot and-"

She stopped when she saw Clay the way he was. He didn't look up at any of them. He couldn't face them like this. It would just make him look more like a skidmark.

"Clay?" Kenny said concerned.

"What's wrong?" Lilly said more concerned.

Clay felt Carley lead him away from the group and towards his room. Yeah, send him to his room like a scared child. He deserved no better. He was just pathetic. Just like dad always said.

Carley opened the door and led him to his bed. She lowered her arm from around him as he slinked onto it. He didn't look to her or say anything. He just laid there quietly, reflecting on everything that happened. He almost died again. Only this time, it wasn't some heroic act. Maybe that heroic act was a fluke. It certainly didn't save Evelyn.

"Clay…" Carley said with genuine worry. He didn't answer. Carley sighed as she closed the door. He heard her walk to the rest of the group most likely to explain what happened. There was a lot that happened, so he had no idea where she would start.

As for Clay, he lost track of time as he continued to lose himself in his thoughts. He didn't sleep or feel tired at all. He just thought.

One of his most immediate thoughts was a why question. Specifically: why couldn't he have had a crazy brave moment then like he did earlier? When they were in danger, he did something so crazy that it worked…for a while. Somehow that never happened here. It's not like his options were the expansive. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't really run away. He couldn't have done a lot of stuff. Still, he wished he could have done something. He just froze instead.

There was more though. He thought about those moments where he was sure he would die. Even the fear that was suppressed when running from the arrows rose to the surface. Why did he not feel it then but now he did? What was he afraid of? He was the religious guy here. If he died he would go to meet God. Would it the right time though? Was he worthy enough to go to heaven? Would he have caused someone else misfortune because he wasn't alive?

He also thought about Carley. He remembered her face and how tough she looked even when facing death. Did she think he was brave to offer himself to die for her or just really dumb? Probably the latter. Of course Newel wouldn't kill him. How could Clay have been so stupid at that moment?

He also thought about Evelyn. He had no idea what they would do to her, but Clay couldn't help but think that he damned her to some worse fate than a clean death. What if she was right? Would the others try to screw him over? Why did he even let her put those thoughts in his head?

More thoughts swam in his mind and time slipped away from him. However long this "thinking purgatory" went for, it was completely dark by the time he exited it. He sat up and looked out the window, only to see that the blinds were closed. He remembered that he had closed them that morning. He slowly took his shoes and socks off. His feet probably stunk. Not that anyone would notice.

Just then, there was a knock on his door.

"Clay?" He heard Carley say. Clay didn't feel the energy to get up or even answer.

That didn't stop her from coming in anyway. Carley closed the door behind her as she walked over and sat on the bed next to him. She was worried, yet not in a pitying way.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

Clay didn't answer.

"Clay…" She said in an attempt to comfort him. "Whatever you might think right now…" She attempted to find something to add, but instead held his hand in hers. "You saved my life today…twice! I don't know if you feel that way right now, but that's pretty damn heroic of you."

He looked up to her gentle eyes sheepishly.

"I don't know how you pushed me out of the way of that arrow in time," she continued, "But you did! I didn't forget that! And whatever you may think about…what happened earlier, you stopped them from killing me."

Clay wished he could voice his worries and concerns right now. There were so many things that needed to be said, for his sake. He felt guilty thinking that though. He didn't want to put all of that on Carley's shoulders. He didn't want to be that nutcase she'd have to play psychiatrist with.

Carley seemed to pick up on this. "Please, Clay. Talk to me. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. Whatever you want to get off your chest, I'm all ears." She lifted his head up so he could look her in the eyes. "You listened to my problems today. I'll do the same now."

Clay trembled with emotion. Not that he was upset or sad, but he was just…grateful. He was grateful that she did remember him helping her. He was grateful that she was willing to listen. He was grateful to be alive right now.

Clay wrapped his arms around Carley and embraced her. She returned the embrace as some tears rolled down his cheek. He savored the warmth of her body for a moment and the terrific feeling that a hug could give. He didn't know how long they were going to talk right now, but it's not like he was going to sleep anytime soon….

**Well, that was a lot of stuff! Let me know how this chapter turned out. Feedback is always welcome, no matter how positive or negative. Also, if you see any changes over the next day or two, I will be giving this one final proofread just to catch grammar and writing issues.**

**And I am off to work on my other fanfic as well as chapter six. See you all soon!**


	6. A Step Forward

**I'm late. I know. I got a new job at the Cinemark and it has cut into my writing time. Freaking work and money and needing to eat!**

**Obligatory plug to my Halo/Mass Effect crossover Last of an Ancient Breed and the source story The Last Spartan written by DinoJake.**

**Something interesting I noticed this weekend too. For all of you who saw the ComicCon trailer for The Walking Dead Season 4, did you noticed where Michionne pointed on the map? Macon! It could be coincidence, but does anyone else sense a crossover for the TV show…?**

**And on a side note, I thought I'd give a little background on some characters. Clay and Newel are both my own creation from the original role-play site, so nailing down their looks was important for me. I searched for their avatars for a while and came up with what I felt were the ideal appearances based on real actors (it was a requirement for the avatars there for a time). The closest I could find for Clay was David Henrie (Justin from Wizards of Waverly Place and the Son from How I Met Your Mother) and M.C. Gainey for Newel (Tom Friend on Lost and John Brittle from Django Unchained). I'm sure it differs for everyone reading it, but those were the visual inspirations for them.**

**And also a cool side note, this is my shortest chapter to date. I figured after the behemoth the last chapter was, you could all use something not so long. Sorry for that!  
**

**Now onto the show. We previously left Clay and the motor inn group after the encounter with Newel's bandits. This will be a bit of a breather compared to the last chapter, but I will ensure zombie goodness in the next chapter. Let's see where things go…**

Since the whole…whatever all of this has been started, Clay's dreams had usually been the same. The same bad memories haunting him. The same worry about waking up to a walker attack. The same feeling of loss for loved ones. His subconscious seemed to run these all in a loop.

This night was different though. He couldn't explain why, mostly because he was still asleep. Yet there were no walkers in his dream. No unwanted visits from ghosts of his past. No death or violence. There was just…nothing. A calm nothing, like the world ceased to exist for a moment. It was like going to the temple.

A scripture he remembered echoed in the void. Something about "Be still and know that I am the Lord." He read it during a study with Elder Smith. It was comforting. So much had happened over the last few days that he really didn't have time to be still, even in his sleep. And the scriptures always talked about finding the voice of the Lord through the still, small voice. That may or may not be happening now, but he savored the calm regardless.

At some point, the sleep began fading from his mind. He had no idea how long he had been out, but his waking mind interpreted it as somewhere in the ballpark of a week and a hundred years. So that meant probably seven or eight hours. It'd be the first time that happened in weeks.

His eyes fluttered as he awoke staring up at the ceiling. He was on his back. Light peaked through the still closed blinds of his windows, which, based on how bright it was, meant it was the afternoon. He was sure he should be doing something right now. Did they still think he needed space?

Clay rubbed the sleep from one of his eyes as he recalled the night before. Various scattered memories and feelings swirled about. He remembered the feelings of emptiness lying on that bed after the encounter with Newel. He remembered being on that road pinned by boots and weapons as they taunted him. He remembered feeling powerless and pathetic.

Then he recalled better memories. He remembered a calm embrace wrapped around him. He remembered long but cathartic discussions where he expressed his doubts and fears. He remembered kind words of encouragement and reassurance. These thoughts were fresher than the bad ones and the more he remembered them, the better he felt. He even remembered the feeling of holding that warm hand in his.

In fact, he was feeling it right now!

Clay turned his head and was greeted with Carley's sleeping face. She was still there! He was surprised. Did he ask her to stay or did she offer? Did they just pass out from sheer exhaustion after talking for so long? He couldn't remember, but this was surprising no matter the explanation. He had never had a girl sleep on the same bed with him before. Did he…?

He glanced down at his body. His clothes were all still on. He sighed relieved. Good. He hadn't done anything stupid.

He turned back to her and smiled. He knew this was definitely a violation of missionary rules, on top of being a huge no-no religiously speaking. His mom would have a hissy fit if she knew about this. And yet…it was incredibly comforting to have someone next to him when he woke up. It's not like they were married or dating, yet he felt what other people probably did when they had a loved one next to them.

He examined every inch of her sleeping face. She looked so serene. Her hair was still nicely kept even while resting. Her eyes were closed without any sense of tenseness or strain. She even had a soft smile as she slept. She was just such a beautiful specimen. Even those unfortunate bruises she got couldn't cover that.

Clay realized then he had been gently stroking his thumb on hers the whole time. He should have felt embarrassed being so affectionate, but right now, this moment was happening. He savored it for another minute, not making a sound to disturb the silence. The only thing that stopped the moment was the flood of one lingering thought on his mind…

…he really had to pee!

He must have overestimated how long he was holding it in. At least it didn't happen while he slept. Well, maybe this moment would linger in his dreams.

He slipped his hand out from hers and quietly lifted himself off the bed. Just because he wasn't tired anymore didn't mean he should wake her up. He figured she'd get up when she felt like it. After listening to him all last night and everything beforehand, she earned it.

He tiptoed his way to the bathroom and closed the door. As he proceeded to relieve himself, he thought about what Carley told him she been through. He was sure listening to his problems was one trial, but she also had to endure being captured, insulted and beaten by those guys. And it happened because she went looking for him. She almost was shot in the head because of him!

He shook his head as he remembered what Carley had said about blaming himself too much. He had said how sorry he was, but she told him that he didn't need to be sorry for every bad thing. She was just as responsible as he was and sometimes bad things happen with no one in particular to blame. He still needed to wrap his brain around that.

He finished his business and exited the bathroom. Ok, so he needed to find something productive to do now. He didn't know if the others wanted him doing anything though. It's not like he was some kind of mental patient or PTSD victim. Still, he shouldn't overexert himself. He needed to warm up and relax. He tried to think of something productive, even if it was something small.

All that came to his mind was the desire to read scriptures. To be fair, he didn't read them yesterday and his missionary habits were still effect. Maybe he could find something comforting to thumb through to start his day. That sounded productive and easy enough.

As he reached for his bag, he looked back at Carley. She was still asleep on the bed quietly, her soft breathing filling the silence. He really didn't want to disturb her.

Yet a thought popped in his head. It wasn't a weird thought since he had thought about it before. It was just to think about it right now was weird. It persisted in his mind though. Somehow he felt that he should act upon it now or there might not be a better moment.

He tiptoed his way over to Carley and stood by her side. He felt gratitude for her at the moment. He may not fully understand it, but she probably helped him more than he realized. He felt nervous saying thank you to her face, but he figured this was his way of doing so. Plus, she had already done this to him.

He slowly bent down and, with careful precision, softly kissed her cheek. This may just be the ballsiest move he had done in a long time and he had just the other day run from killer bandits with arrows. This was much1 more gratifying.

With that, he stealthily walked to the door, scooped up his backpack and exited. Fresh air greeted his lungs. It was warmer than usual too, which may mean today would be a good day.

Then he noticed that there was hardly anyone outside! He almost panicked until he saw Lee sitting on top of the RV with his rifle. He sighed with relief. It's not like they had been lax on keeping watch, but the way Lee looked out into the distance meant they may be more on their toes. He didn't blame them.

He also noticed Katjaa, Ben, Duck and Clementine nearby the RV. Katjaa was talking something over with Ben while Duck and Clementine kicked around that soccer ball they found. Things were pretty quiet right now.

Which meant that Clay didn't want to bother them with his presence. He made his way to an obscure corner out of their view and took his scriptures out. A growl from his stomach also prompted him to take a granola bar from his stash. He had been feeling thinner lately, but he knew he had to be careful with his rations. Even if he was hungry, it would be worse if he ran out of food. Plus, using his personal stash would save the trouble of draining the group's pile. They'd need it now with the whole bandit situation.

He closed his eyes to block that thought out, He tried not blaming himself again, but this was really his fault. He had got all of them into deeper trouble because he was scared and didn't think things through. Would it have been any better if he stood up to them? He saved Carley's life, but even if he was too late or said something else….no, it wouldn't be any different. The only thing that would have changed was a hole in Carley's head and sickening guilt in his stomach. He repeated that over and over to push out the bad thoughts.

He lifted his scripture bookmark and worked his way through the chapter. Even though his focus wandered, he made an effort to keep reading. It was like the president of his mission told him. Sometimes just reading was enough to lighten your day. He also said to read until you want to keep reading, but that was easier said than done.

He turned the page to the next chapter. He was feeling better. The chapter itself wasn't anything special. It was that really long section in 2nd Nephi with the parable of the olive branch and all the prophecies surrounding it. It wasn't that it was bad, but you have to think it over to appreciate it. Not like he had anything else to do today. It would probably be best to stay out of everyone's way so he could-

"Hey Clay!"

He jumped as he set his scriptures down and saw Clementine in front of him, who looked surprised at his reaction. "Are you ok?" She said concerned.

"Uh…yeah…sorry," He muttered as he opened his scriptures again

She sat next to him. "How come you're all alone?"

"I just…" He trailed off as he attempted to find a good answer. "I wanted someplace quiet to read."

She peeked over and looked at his scriptures. "What's that?"

"It's my scriptures," he answered hesitantly. She looked at him confused. "It's, um, like the Bible and a few other books combined together." He turned the book to show her the spine. In gold lettering, the words HOLY BIBLE, THE BOOK OF MORMON, THE DOCTRINE AND COVENANTS and THE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE were written along side it.

"Cool," she said. "My teacher read the Bible a lot. She told stories from it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I think I remember one about a guy who took care of sheep fighting a giant. That must have been scary for him."

"…yeah. Probably was," He said to himself. Somehow his mind invisibly connected that to yesterday. Except that he didn't slay any Goliaths with a stone.

"That's a lot of words," she said surprised as she pointed to a few verses. "It's really small too. Are there any pictures in there?"

He was about to say no until he remembered something. "Uh, actually," he said as he thumbed through a couple pages, sticking his bookmark where he left off. He found what he was looking for a few pages over. On top of several verses, there was a see through sticker showing what happened in that scene.

"Hey!" She said surprised. "Did you draw that?"

He chuckled weakly. "I wish." He used his fingernail to point out the edges. "My mom gave me a pack of 'scripture stickers' when I was your age. I went through and stuck them on all the right pages." He thumbed through a couple other pages to show that. "She did it to keep me quiet in church, but it was fun."

"That's nice," she said. "Did your dad help you with it?"

That shut him up quickly. He scrambled to shift the conversation somewhere else. "So, are you having fun with Duck?"

"Kind of," she said. "The adults are all busy so it's all we can do right now." She looked up to him again. "How come you don't want to talk about your dad?"

Man! She was persistent. He frowned as he thought of a way to express his thoughts without dwelling on it. "I…I just don't feel like it right now," he said matter of fact. That wasn't the nicest way to say it, but it was the truth.

"Why?"

Now he felt guilty. Bitter feelings swelled in his stomach thinking about it. He wished he could talk about something else.

"Clay?"

The two of them looked up to see Katjaa standing nearby them. Apparently Clay wasn't as unnoticeable at this spot as he hoped.

"I sent Clementine to bring you over," she said a little disappointed in her. "You should apply some fresh bandages on that wound."

Clay eyed his wound. They probably did have some blood soaked into them. He was just happy that she stopped the conversation.

"No it's fine," he said in Clem's defense, "We were just talking about some things. Um, sure."

Clay and Clementine stood up as Katjaa walked back to the RV. As Clay put away his scriptures and slung his backpack on, he saw Clementine looking disappointed. He sighed and knelt on a knee in front of her.

"Hey," he said trying to reassure her, "I'm sorry. Today's just…not a good day. When the time's right, I'll talk to you more about my parents. Ok?" He didn't really have a plan to keep that promise, but he couldn't leave her upset like this.

"Promise?"

He held up his hand courtroom style. "Solemnly swear."

She smiled. "Ok."

He tussled her curly hair. "You're a good kid, you know that?" He said before he walked away. He was surprised how persistent she was to talk about his dad though. He knew she meant no harm, but it was unusual. Plus, he hadn't really talked about his dad to anyone. It wasn't a favorite subject of his.

He made his way to the RV, where Katjaa had some new bandages out from the medkit. "Ok, take the old ones off," she said.

He lifted up his shirt. The old bandages were definitely looking gross, with darkened blood soaked into the outside. It must have been from the commotion yesterday. He slowly pulled the first bandage off, enduring the sting of it.

"Probably best if you pull it off quickly," Katjaa pointed out.

He didn't really like peeling bandages, but she was right. He grabbed the second bandage and quickly tore it off. It stung harder, but the pain went away quicker.

"Good," she said as she handed him a damp cloth. "Clean the wound off."

He took the cloth and quickly cleaned the wound. He looked up to Katjaa as he did. He was glad she was so careful with injuries. She truly was the mother of the group. Every group should have one, he figured. At least she had been nicer to him than the first few days when he was here.

"Thank you by the way," he said to her.

"Hm?" She asked.

"For helping me."

"Of course," she said. "It's the least I could do. I wouldn't be in good conscience having you bleed out."

Clay nodded as he set the cloth down and applied the new bandages.

"How are you feeling, Clay?" Katjaa asked him.

He looked back as he continued. "Hm?"

"Since yesterday," she said. "You were quite…shook up."

Clay frowned. So people were still thinking about that. To be fair, Carley did parade him into the motor inn for everyone to see his shell shock.

"Yeah…I was…" He said.

"Carley told us what happened," she said.

He figured she would. He finished putting the bandages.

"When the bandits attacked us here, I was so terrified," she continued. "Not for my own life though. I just saw the look on Clementine and Duck's faces and knew I had to protect them. So I hid with them behind the RV. It…it almost felt selfish. I didn't even think about my husband or even the chance he could have been killed."

He rubbed his arm nervously. He felt responsible knowing that wouldn't have happened if he didn't go with Lee and Carley to find Evelyn.

"And yet…" she continued again. "I wasn't going to let them hurt the kids. Even if I had to kill them, I would have done whatever it took. That's easier to say now then at the moment, but I know I would have. So…I know how you must have felt." She noticed that his focus was far off from the conversation. "You ok?"

Clay looked back to her guiltily. "I…I put you through that." She seemed confused. "If I hadn't run off with them-"

"Don't," She cut him off as she realized what he meant. "Did Carley tell you about Ben's teacher?"

Clay shook his head.

"Before we met the St. John's, Kenny found Ben and his teacher in the woods. The teacher had his leg caught in a bear trap and Lee had to…cut him free."

A flash of that corpse from his first day here went across his memory.

"Lilly and some of the others argued that we shouldn't have brought them, but it wouldn't have been right to let that man die. I tried stopping the blood loss…" She frowned. "…but the teacher didn't make it. He even came back and attacked me."

His eyebrows shot up. That certainly would have scared the piss out of him.

"Yet I didn't regret helping him," she continued. "I just regretted not being able to save him. And when you brought that girl in yesterday…well, it felt like a chance to make amends. So don't apologize."

"But I almost got you and the kids killed…" He said.

"If it wasn't going to be the bandits, it would have been someone…or something else," she added. "These are harsh times, Clay. Bad things happen." She approached him with a sterner demeanor. "Just…if something like this happens again, guard the kids with your life. Even if it is your fault, you will do whatever it takes. You understand?" She demanded.

He swallowed as he saw her determined stare. He knew she meant what she did about not feeling guilty, but she was just as serious about this.

"Yes," he said as he nodded quickly.

"Good," she said as she put away the medkit. "I'm going to go check on my husband. Don't irritate the bandages too much." And with that, she walked off.

Clay let her words stew for a spell. She couldn't have totally forgiven him for what he put them through. It'd be too easy. He wondered if anyone else did. Well, Carley was there so she obviously had no hard feelings. And Lee probably didn't either. They were just as likely to be scrutinized by the group though. He attempted to find another place out of everyone's way.

"Glad you made that promise," a voice said above him.

He looked up to see Lee still sitting at his spot on top of the RV. Lee heard all of that for sure.

"Can you bring me a beer?" Lee said pointing to a cooler nearby. "Keeping watch can make a guy thirsty."

Clay nodded and got the beer out. He didn't figure drinking alcohol would make Lee any less thirsty but he wasn't going to argue. He made his way up the ladder on the RV's side and handed Lee his drink.

"Thanks," Lee said as he opened the can. "See anything suspicious out there?"

Clay looked out at the forest ahead. Everything looked pretty still for the moment. He shook his head. "Nope."

Lee took a sip from his drink. "Doesn't mean they aren't out there. If they've really been watching us like Carley said, we can't let anything pass our attention."

Clay nodded.

"I never thanked you by the way," Lee said to Clay. "We probably wouldn't have made it back here if you didn't distract those guys."

"You probably would have," Clay said still staring into the forest. He suddenly felt paranoid from Lee's remark. "All I did was almost get myself killed again."

"Well whether you think so or not, you did help us." Lee adjusted the rifle to his side before continuing. "You're not the only one who feels guilty, you know. I'm just as responsible for almost killing everyone as you or Carley were."

Clay sat down on the RV. "You're probably why they didn't though," Clay said. "At least you and Carley were here to protect them."

"It wouldn't have made much of a difference if the bandits didn't stop shooting," Lee said. "You would have come back to a bunch of corpses otherwise."

"You would have been a lot braver about it than me," Clay muttered.

"Who said I wasn't scared?" Lee said. "Bravery has nothing to do with it."

Clay remembered discussing this with Carley the other night. He figured Lee would have much of the same to say.

"Things like this do make you think though," Lee added. "With everything in this world going to shit, you have to learn who you trust to keep those you care for alive."

"Well Katjaa thinks I can keep the kids safe, but I doubt she trusts me."

"She's just as scared as you or me. It's just human."

Clay lifted his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs as he stared out again. Scared….everything was about being scared it seemed. He caved in to Newel because he was scared. He had never killed a walker because he was scared. He was lucky he could even walk without being scared.

He sighed deeply as he pondered what Lee said earlier about trust. He also thought about what Carley said about the same thing. He wanted to trust everyone because he wanted them to trust him. He figured he could always do better, now with everything that happened.

"Something on your mind?" Lee asked curiously.

Clay closed his eyes. "I…I just don't want to let them down again. I couldn't…deal with that like…" He had to stop being so cryptic with this and just spill it out. "…like my companion."

"Hm?"

"Sorry, my, uh, missionary companion," Clay clarified.

"Oh," Lee said. "Right. I'm sorry. Sometimes there's just nothing you can do-"

"No!" Clay said a little more firmly than he expected. "I…I could have done something." He hadn't really talked about Elder Smith to anyone, even the last group he was with. He had to tell somebody and Lee would probably think he was really weird for his reaction unless he explained himself.

"It happened on the first day. We were working in Atlanta when the military forced us to evacuate. My companion, Elder Smith, went back to help a wounded girl. I tried to follow, but there were so many people in the way. Just…just an ocean of them screaming and fleeing for their lives. I felt powerless. By the time I pushed through them, I was too late. She was being eaten and he was calling out for help. I just…froze. I didn't know what to do. And then I just ran. I didn't try to help. I didn't call for help. I didn't even look back. I just left him there to die…"

He paused mostly because he didn't know what there was left to say. He just confided to Lee about his guilt. That's not something to do lightly.

"You're only human, Clay," Lee said to him.

"That's such a stupid excuse," Clay replied bluntly.

"Is it?"

"It is!" Clay said more frustrated. He hadn't really got angry about something for a while. It felt strange. "Everyone tells me how it's ok to be weak because I'm just human. Or that it's ok be scared because I'm just human. How it makes us different than the walkers and animals and everything else. Does it really though? Does it really make it ok that because I let someone die that I'm not at fault because it's human nature? It's just freaking rationalization for people who can't deal with their freaking crap!"

Lee watched him with raised eyebrows as Clay finished his rant. "….you let it all out?" Lee said after a pause.

Clay took a moment to step back and see how worked up he got. He slouched to try and loosen up.

"Do you know why people rationalize things, Clay?" Lee asked rhetorically. "It's because we're not perfect. People can try to be perfect like Jesus as much as they want, but they're never going to be. We don't know our limits. We don't have the best judgment. We don't know what we're really capable of doing or not doing. We don't know how we'll be judged for our actions. All we can do is admit that we are human and try to make amends. As much as that sounds shitty, it's reality!"

Clay kept his mouth shut. This was the most direct Lee had been to him since he arrived. He didn't want to push any more buttons.

"Sorry," Lee apologized as he pondered over a thought. "So you poured out your guilt. Want to hear my confession then?"

Clay knew shouldn't say no, so he didn't. "…s-sure."

"On the first day all of this happened, I was in a police car on my way to jail…for murder."

Clay swallowed. He did not expect that admittance. So that was what Lilly meant about Lee's past. "Oh…."

"It's easy for me to say that it was an accident…that finding out about my wife's affair was a legitimate trigger…" Lee said as he struggled to come out with it. "…but all I could think about when I sat in that car was how much it destroyed my life. And that it would follow me forever."

Lee turned to Clay, "I'm not if I believe in God as strongly as you, but if there is, I can only hope he knows what I feel. That it really was an accident. I mean, hell, I'm a college professor. I'm not exactly criminal material." He sighed deeply. "Or at least I thought so…"

And another stretch of uncomfortable silence lingered as Clay pondered what Lee said. Suddenly his problems didn't feel so significant.

"Everyone has blood on their hands, Clay," Lee said. "Everyone's done something they regret or that's hurt someone else. It's because we're weak. Because we're flawed. Because we're human. Sometimes there's just no other excuse."

Clay's mouth felt dry trying to even think of something to add to that. There are some moments where there is just nothing good to say. "I'm sorry," he mumbled pathetically.

"It's alright," Lee said as he finished his drink and set it down. "I'm surprised I told you all of that."

"Really?" Clay said. He chalked that up to the whole 'religious confession' urge people have when talking to missionaries. It's happened more than once to him. "No one else knows?"

"No one who didn't know already," he admitted.

"Which is why you should tell them," a voice behind them said.

Clay and Lee turned to see Carley climb up the ladder to the top of the RV. She was still in the same clothes from earlier, but she clearly did a quick touch up job for her hair.

She approached the two of them…and then did something surprising. She bent down towards Clay and gave him a nice, firm kiss on the cheek before sitting down. "Hey Clay," she said cheerfully.

The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened and he felt a cold shock run through his spine like the first kiss she gave him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lee give an amused smile to them. He figured his stealth kiss earlier would be gratifying on its own, but he never assumed he'd get that in return,

His life was suddenly not feeling so bad for a moment.

"Seriously, Lee," Carley said continuing the conversation.

"I know, I know," Lee defended, "Its just not that easy. Especially with everything that happened yesterday-"

"Everything that happened yesterday should be more of a motivation," Carley cut him off. "We're straining trust as it is with the bandits and the arguing. The last thing we need is more ugly shit from our past piled on top."

"How did you know about this?" Clay asked her.

"Part of being a reporter is catching up on all the big news stories," she said. "Lee's was one of those." She turned back to Lee. "They need to know you're not just some killer who's going to come after them. You're a good man."

"Do you think everyone else would feel the same if I told them?" Lee said.

"Not if you just walk up to them and say 'Oh and by the way, I killed someone.' You need to think about who you trust and tell it to them the right way. I'm sure they'll understand." She gave a friendly nudge to Clay's arm. "We have your back, right Clay?"

Clay had still been thinking about that kiss that he hadn't heard what she said. He decided to agree though. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

Lee nodded. "I'll think about it."

"Good," Carley said relieved. "But that still leaves us with the food problem."

Clay listened closer on this, as he hadn't heard anything about what Carley discussed with the group.

"I already talked to Lilly. She's not too happy," Lee added.

"What?" Clay asked.

"We have to double up on the scavenging," Carley answered back. "If we're even going to try finding enough food, what we have now won't cut it."

And now Clay was feeling guilty again. Not much he could do about it. Trying to fight the bandits could them killed and he wasn't willing to let the kids get hurt. "So what do we do?" He asked.

"Well we were waiting for you guys to get up. Didn't want to disturb anything," Lee said slyly.

"Geez…" Carley said as she shook her head amused and Clay blushed.

"But we'll have to make multiple trips in one day," Lee continued.

"Didn't you say Macon was picked clean?" Carley said.

"Mostly. There might be a few spots we overlooked, but it'll be slim pickings. Lilly's out looking for some other spots in the meantime."

"Well, we should get started then," Carley said as she put a hand on Clay's shoulder. "We'll hit Macon first if you want."

Clay looked to her hand and back to her. They were going to go scavenge in Macon? He wasn't exactly sure what they hoped to find. That place looked pretty freaking empty last time he was there. They've been in the area longer though, so maybe they knew stuff he didn't.

"Sure," Lee said with a shrug. "I figure the back room of the drug store might…" He stopped as he saw Carley's concerned look. "You know you'll have to go in there."

"Right," she said in acceptance.

"Other than that, it's as good a guess as any. Try the gas station and any place that may have snack food, but otherwise you'll have to think on your feet."

Carley nodded as she and Clay stood up. "Get your stuff ready, Clay," she said. "I'll meet you by the dumpster."

She moved to the ladder and climbed off the RV. Clay just stood there watching her leave.

"Are you up for it?" Lee said to him. "I can go if you need to take it easy."

Clay thought it over for a just a moment. As much as he still felt some unease from yesterday, he didn't want to leave Carley's side. Call it foolish puppy love, but he didn't want anyone else to go with her.

"It's ok," he said. "I can do it."

"Alright," Lee said as he looked out to the forest again with his rifle on his lap.

Clay climbed off the RV and made his way to his room. He slung his pack off and sorted through his bag to open up space for whatever they would find. He couldn't take his scriptures or the missionary tags out though. He…needed them.

As he exited his room, he spotted Carley carrying an extra bag. He moved over quickly to her and grabbed the bag's strap. "I can carry that for you."

"Oh, thanks," she said as he slung it over his shoulder. He didn't know if that was a genuine thanks or not, but he tried not to question it. She checked her pistol's ammo quickly. "Ready?"

He looked back to his room one more time before nodding. "Yeah."

The two of them pushed the dumpster out and back in as the exited. It was going to be a bit of a walk, so Clay had some time to prepare himself mentally. He had to do his best to find food for the group. Being human wasn't going to stop that….

**I know doing an OC/Carley romantic thing is selfish to some degree since, honestly, who doesn't love Carley? It was something in the role-play that just kind of developed naturally though and it does have a purpose beyond being a love interest thing. It is The Walking Dead though, so who knows what could happen…**

**Comments and reviews of all kinds are welcomed. Feel free to submit any thoughts you have. And thank you all so much for your support. I truly love writing this stuff.**

**Stay tuned for some good Clay and Carley solo venturing!**


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